


Honestly

by greerian



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Dubious Consent, F/M, Gender dynamics, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Verse, Slow Build, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:39:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 65,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4793033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greerian/pseuds/greerian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin Price is going to be the world's most incredible alpha, just you watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> As for the trans character, that refers to the person's secondary gender; said person is not MTF or vice versa. I'm sorry to disappoint.
> 
> Also, here is a brief explanation of what the omegaverse tag for this fic means: This is a world where everyone has a secondary gender as well as the ones we know now: alpha, beta, and omega. Forgive me, I'm going to have to use gender binary terms to explain this. Alphas of both sexes (male and female) can impregnate betas and omegas, and are generally considered more strong and capable. In my fic, female alphas are considered unnatural, and all alphas are generally taller than the other sexes. Betas are basically just like normal (our universe) people, with women being capable of childbirth and men of impregnation. Omegas of both sexes can bear children and, in most versions of the omegaverse, are treated as weaker and lesser. In my fic, the government is based of 'Mormon' principles, and so it has all the kids of the nation, when they turn 19, attend a camp for six months (give or take) to be paired up with someone. The kids are expected to start having children as soon as they're paired up, and usually it's alphas paired with omegas and betas with betas (except when the numbers of each secondary gender don't match up), but nobody knows their secondary gender until they get to camp.  
> Along with the bias against omegas (and, to a lesser extent, against betas), there is, in my universe, a strong prejudice against same sex couples, even though they're not illegal. As long as they can produce children (or agree to adopt at least three children), it's a legal marriage.  
> This is by no means a comprehensive view of all omegaverse dynamics (and there is a deeper biological component) but this is really what you need to know for this fic :) I hope it helps!

“Under the Sea” blaring from the speakers, the wind artfully mussing his gleaming brown hair, Kevin Price grins. Today is going to be an incredible day, he just knows it.

“The fish on the land ain't happy; they sad 'cause they in the bowl,” he croons, laughing as his little sister Sarah joins in with harmony. The whole family is singing along as Mrs. Price drives their minivan along the quietly bustling streets of Provo, Utah. Everybody’s come along to see him off to camp, and it’s just wonderful to have everybody together and happy. With seven kids, it’s a bit of a squeeze, but each of the little ones had pleaded to be allowed to come say goodbye to their big brother, and not even a patented matriarchal glare and fists rested on Mrs. Price's hips could dissuade them. And, he’s not going to lie, Kevin is very happy to be able to see them all just before he commits to camp for so long. He never could understand those siblings who hated each other.

 _But what’s important now_ , he thinks, _is that I enjoy every last minute with them._ And so he belts his heart out, laughing when his mom rolls her eyes and clapping when little Benjamin attempts the lower bits. “Hakuna Matata” comes on next to universal excitement, but, as Simba grows up, the camp center appears at the end of the street, and Mrs. Price swings into the crowded parking lot. Kevin shushes his brothers and sisters as she glances around, biting her lower lip in concentration. It really isn’t that hard, though, to find the drop-off zone; while the Price family haven’t had any kids go to camp before, Provo’s little division of the Department of Health and Human Services has run enough drop-off days for today to be no problem. It’s almost like the pick-up line at the Price’s church’s homeschool co-op program, except that the government gives each family a few minutes to say goodbye; after all, they won’t see their kids for six months, at best.

Even though the line is long, Kevin feels like he’s hardly had a moment to blink before he’s standing outside the van, staring up at the Center for Secondary Gender Development with its stone walls and forbidding black gate, open for once. It shouldn’t look so scary in the sunlight, but it’s still chilling, and he has to fight to keep a smile on as he hugs each and every one of his siblings.

“I’ll be back before you know it, guys,” he promises, beaming at the little faces turned up to him. “And, maybe, I might bring a pretty little lady with me!”

Jack and Sarah smile back; they’re both teens and they know what’s going on, but Joseph, the next oldest, just looks up at him with wide eyes, while the little ones are moments away from wailing.

His mom nips that in the bud, though, hissing a quick “Behave yourselves!” at them before wrapping her oldest in a warm hug. “My baby…” she murmurs, swaying with Kevin in her arms. “I’m so, so proud of you. You’re going to be incredible.” She pretends there aren’t tears in her eyes when she pulls away, and he pretends not to notice them. “You’re going to be the best alpha in there,” she says, ruffling his hair. He fixes it as best he can without a mirror, barely refraining from rolling his eyes in turn, and she holds out his black suitcase. “Go knock their socks off, Kevin.”

“I will, Mom,” he replies, and she gives him that proud grin that she’s given him when he won at Bible Drill, when he got the highest grades in the co-op, whenever he’s done something great.

But little Becca, the youngest, decides at that moment that she’s not gotten nearly enough attention in the last few minutes and begins to cry, which then sets off all the others. Mrs. Price can’t even spare her oldest son an apologetic glance as she herds the other children back into the van. And Kevin doesn't miss Jack subtly slipping into Kevin’s old place up front. “I love you, guys!” he says, quickly, as the sliding doors shut and his mom puts the car in drive again. There are a few waves from inside the car, then it’s gone, melding into the swiftly moving parade that’s heading back to the main road. He stands on the sidewalk for a minute or two, then, watching to make sure that the beat-up family van is actually leaving him and not coming back like he’s a bag of groceries they’ve forgotten, but the car disappears out of sight, and all that’s left is for him to shoulder his backpack and walk in through the gate. Putting on a familiar, warm smile, he does exactly that.

Inside the gate is a milling mass of kids, just like him; they’re all nineteen, and they’re all waiting to find out where they’re going to go, who they’re going to be paired with, and, most importantly, what their secondary genders are. They’d all gotten their genetic testing done last month, Kevin knows. It’s required for every kid, homeschooled or not, or they’d be in big trouble. And while they maybe wouldn’t go to jail, since they’re not legally adults until released from camp, their parents might, and nobody wants that.

Amongst the chaos, he sees a sort of line forming on the opposite of the courtyard-type place, where people seem to be getting room assignments and keys. Blessing Heavenly Father for his height which puts him just the needed number of inches above the crowd, he starts to politely shove his way through. Just as he thinks he’s found the end of the line for sure this time, a loud squeal of a laugh sounds from about six inches from his ear and he almost smacks the laugher in the face.

“Isn’t this just great?” the boy shouts, standing just behind Kevin and grinning up at him in a way that makes it painfully obvious that he’s speaking to him. He looks like what would happen if someone took the Three Stooges from Saturday morning cartoons and mixed them into one person, except that this guy is definitely real, and probably not nearly as funny. “Oh, hi!” he says, grabbing Kevin’s right hand with his own sweaty one. “I’m Arnold Cunningham, and I’m so excited to be here!”

“Oh. Um. hi,” Kevin greets him, shaking his hand firmly, the way his dad taught him to. Even if Arnold wasn’t anyone he wanted to impress, it never hurt to be nice. “My name is Kevin Price. It’s nice to meet you.”

Arnold laughs again, and Kevin resists the urge to wince. “I know! I mean, it’s nice to meet you, too. Are you going to be an alpha? I bet you are; you seem really tall like that.” The brunette nods in confirmation. He won’t find out his test results until tonight, but, all things considered, it’s basically impossible for him to be anything but an alpha. “That’s a shame,” Arnold says, pulling nervously at his tie. Kevin’s not really sure why the boy bothered to dress up, since the first day of camp is just orientation and he’s already got sweat stains at the armpit of his shirt sleeves. “I’m gonna be a beta, and you seem really, really cool.”

“Well, thank you,” Kevin replies, choosing the easiest part of that to respond to. There’s nothing wrong with being a beta, of course, but it’s not worthy of congratulations; plus, he'd never turn down a compliment. But he’s stuck racking his brain after that, trying to find something else to say because the line is moving slowly and there’s four people ahead of him. Luckily Arnold keeps up his babbling, and all Kevin has to do is nod.

“I really hope I find my match right away, you know? I don’t wanna stay here for longer than I have to. I’ve got friends on the internet that’re gonna miss me, but they live in other countries so they don’t have to do this. They think it’s really weird that Americans have programs like this, but they don’t want me to explain it so I don’t really know what to do with that. Like, what are we supposed to do about population growth if we don’t match people up right away and start getting more babies born? We can’t just let ourselves die out! And I read that there’s more girls here than boys this year, and I kind of like that. If I was to find a really, really, really great guy like Han Solo or something I guess I wouldn’t mind too much but Heavenly Father has a plan and that plan means He needs more Mormon families! And two beta guys can’t really have a family, which is a problem, and even if it weren’t, er, wasn’t, I kind of thought about guys for a while and I just think they’re not for me. But if there’s more girls, that means there’ll be girl couples or something. That would really awkward, don’t you think? I’m really glad that I’m not a girl sometimes.”

It’s then that the taller boy processes exactly what Arnold’s said and he gasps in astonishment. “Arnold! You can’t just think about experimenting with other _boys_! That’s certainly not part of Heavenly Father’s plan. And even if it was, you shouldn’t be thinking about just anyone. You should be thinking about the one person that is right for _you_. Also, we shouldn’t begrudge the government the time it takes for them to help us find that one; we shouldn’t complain if it takes the full two years.” Taking a deep breath, Kevin tries to relax his disgruntled (and unattractive) expression into something more acceptable. _But this is ridiculous_ , he argues to himself, _that the very first person I talk to would be so disrespectful of God!_

Thankfully, though, the person in front of him finishes up their registration just then and it’s his turn to talk to the exhausted looking woman behind the folding table. He gives her his name, verifies his address, and hands over his ID card. She moves efficiently, but it still takes a while to check that everything is correct on the outdated computer set off to the left, and he’s shifting anxiously by the time she finally hands over a lanyard with a dull gold key.

“You’re in room 1017,” she announces, gesturing to Arnold before the number is even out of her mouth.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he replies, waving goodbye to his line-waiting partner, but the only reply is Arnold’s piercingly loud “Goodbye!” before the crowd swells up around them.

It only takes Kevin a few minutes to find his room, and he can still hear the faint rumble of the huge group in the courtyard as he stands outside the door. _Maybe this isn’t the right room? It doesn’t seem right that I found it this quickly._ He glances around, but there’s no one else in the hallway, much less anyone who might be in charge around here. _What am I waiting for? I don't think they would have given me the wrong number. If someone else, er, two someone elses are already in there, I’ll just apologize and… and go look elsewhere. It’s as easy as that._ It doesn’t keep him from knocking tentatively on the door first. Of course they’re no reply from the other side, and at first he’s relieved until he thinks that maybe the two who are really supposed to be there just haven’t been told so yet. _This is ridiculous,_ he scolds himself. _Just… go in. It’s just a room._ Taking a breath that definitely is _not_ shaky, he inserts the key hung around his neck and enters the room.

It’s small, at least as small as the boys' room at home, but instead of two sets of bunk beds there’s only one, with a desk in the corner. There’s carpet on the floor, faded in the middle of the room and darker towards the walls, and his nose wrinkles faintly at the weird smell. But the mattresses look clean, and he swings his stuff up onto the top bunk, the motion comfortingly familiar. There'll be time to put his stuff away later, once he and his roommate figure out divisions of space and everything. Taking the wooden desk chair for himself, he resigns himself to a long wait, mentally reviewing all of the scripture verses he’d memorized to meditate on in the next few months, but hardly ten minutes pass before the door swings open, slamming against the opposite wall, and Arnold Cunningham stands in the doorway, face glowing with excitement.

“Hey, Kevin!” he yells. Kevin’s heart falls to his toes.

“What are you doing here?” he asks warily, standing immediately.

“This is my room!” the curly-haired boy announces. “Sorry I took so long, I think I went the other way around the building and I got lost. Is it okay if I take the bottom bunk? I don’t really like heights, and I don’t want to fall off again. That happened once and I had to go to the hospital but they didn’t give me a cool cast for my arm because I was little and it didn’t break all the way and I just had to get a sling on my arm and it was ugly and not awesome at all and- _oh_.” And Kevin can see that Arnold gets it, and he has to fight the nausea and horror rising in his throat. “Does this mean you’re a b-”

“No!” he shouts, striding confidently over the bed and climbing just enough rungs of the ladder up to grab his bags again and throw them to the ground. “No, it’s not true. The results are false, or they got me mixed up. I am not a beta, and I’m going to go get this sorted out, so, I’m sorry to leave you on your own, and I hope you get a good roommate.”

“Wait, Kevin!” the boy shouts, taking hold of his arm. “Just… just think about it for a sec. Maybe this is Heavenly Father’s plan? I mean, what’s so great about being an alpha anyway?”

Kevin freezes. “What’s so great about being an alpha?” he asks, voice colder than he’s ever let it be in his life. “Alphas can do things that betas and omega can’t even dream about, Arnold.” He spits the other boy’s name, and hardly even cares when he sees him wince. “I want to change the world; do you really think I can do that as a _beta_?” He shakes him off fiercely, scooping up his stuff from the stained carpet. “This is nothing like what I was promised, Arnold. There’s an error, somewhere, and I’m going to fix it.” He straightens his shoulders firmly, the panic pulsing through him fueling a sharp determination that sets his jaw and keeps him from trembling, and heads for the door, turning back for just a moment. Arnold looks devastated, and he feels awful about how he’s treating the other boy. “It’s not… I don’t mean that there’s anything wrong with betas,” he explains. “But I’m going to do something incredible. Being a beta just isn’t… it isn’t who I am.” He bites back another apology, hesitating just a moment, then storms back to the courtyard.

Somehow the organizers have managed to get most of the kids out, so there’s only a few stragglers waiting to be assigned. He ignores them, going right up to the table where he was assigned his room and announces “There’s a problem with my room!” The woman who signed him in rolls her eyes and tells him to get in the back of the line. He obeys, of course, but he does so sullenly, and he’s so tense the verses he mentally recites don’t help. Finally, he’s the last camp-goer in the courtyard and the woman looks him in the eyes with an expression of worn-out patience.

“What’s the problem, young man?” she asks, folding her hands neatly across the plastic surface of the table, and he slams his hand down not six inches away.

“I was sent to the wrong room!” he says.

She doesn’t reply, merely turning to her computer and pulling up the registration form again. “What was your name again?”

“Kevin Price,” he spits out, adding a quick “ma’am” at the end, because it probably isn’t her fault and he is being pretty disrespectful. Her fingers fly as she types in the name and looks over her screen. The man off to the right watches with mild interest, and Kevin tries not to squirm when his gaze sweeps over him.

“It looks like everything’s in order,” she replies. “Room 1017?”

Kevin grits his teeth. “Then my test results are wrong,” he retorts, and the two government officials sigh.

“Is that so?” she asks. Clicking a few more times, she prints off a few sheets that she looks over before handing them to him, apologetically. “I’m sorry, son, but it looks like the results are correct.” He takes the paper frantically, scanning over the numbers and abbreviations he doesn’t understand. There’s a chart at the end, though, on the backside of the third page, and at the bottom, he sees the definitive red stamp of the word ‘beta’.

“No,” he says, and it’s not tentative. It’s angry, and certain, and maybe a little desperate but isn’t it annoying for everyone when higher powers screw up simple things? “This is wrong.”

The woman starts to speak, reciting an often-heard refrain of “All male results are triple checked for acc-” but the man beside her cuts her off.

“Wait! Wait a second, Debbie, this… remember what they told us? The center in Denver needs a volunteer.” They both look up at him with newfound interest, and his extreme frustration cools a little in confusion.

“A volunteer?” he echoes, and Debbie clears her throat.   
“There’s an… experimental program that’s happening in Denver this summer,” she says, resting her hands on the table again. “And we think you might be interested.” **  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an airplane ride is taken, and our favorite gay Mormon is introduced.

That’s how Kevin finds himself on a flight from Salt Lake City International Airport to Denver International Airport, mere hours after accepting the official’s offer. He’s shaken by how quickly everything is moving, but he holds himself together perfectly well until he realizes that his family now has no idea where he really is. On the plane, smushed in between a distracted businessman and a too small window, he pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes and bites his lip to keep it from quivering. He’d been so sure that he was an alpha, but now... no. He's not _not_ an alpha; he just has to fight for it a little more than he thought. But if it wasn't hard, this trial and his success wouldn't be so incredible, would they? So he sets his shoulders again and fishes his copy of the Book of Mormon out of his carry-on and lets the scripture take him away from this whole debacle.

It's late by the time he arrives, and he's hardly given a chance to look around at the massive airport before a grave-faced man holding a piece of paper with his name on it grabs him and leads him to a small car pulled up right to the exit. The man says nothing, and Kevin doesn't even try to say anything but thank you.

The hotel he's put up in for the night is nice, though, and he sleeps surprisingly well, all things considered, but anxiety begins to creep up on him again as the man from before picks him up at the hotel and drives him into the city.

He jumps when the man asks "Have you eaten breakfast?" Kevin shakes his head, wondering if he should mention not eating dinner the night before, either, but the man just nods and so he stays silent. It's definitely a relief when they finally arrive at the largest of the Denver centers, and Kevin almost jumps out of the car.

"Wait here," the man commands, and then, without any warning, he drives off, and the boy is left alone with his stuff in front of the gated building. It's thoroughly unnerving, and the ever-present smile on his lips threatens to slip until a rattling at the gate attracts his attention. A tiny woman, blond hair perfectly coiffed, is there unlocking the gate.

"Kevin Price?" she chirps, swinging it open in welcome.

"Yes, ma'am," he replies gratefully, almost running to her.

"It's so good to have you here!" She says, beaming up at him. "We are absolutely delighted to have you as a part of this gender-reassignment experiment. I'm Dr. Whitaker, but you can call me Ms. Carrie, and I'm going to be one of the doctors working on your procedure today. Now, if you'll just follow me, I'll explain as we go along." She moves quickly in her high-heel shoes and he's surprised to find he doesn't have to measure his stride to match hers. "I'm just going to give you a quick examination, to guarantee that you're in good health, before we get started. There's nothing to worry about there; it's going to be a lot like a normal check up, okay? And then we'll get you ready for the surgery, make sure that we've got everything in order on our end, and then it'll be full steam ahead! Any questions?"

Kevin shifts his backpack awkwardly at the thought of this omega giving him a full examination, alone, and asks "Excuse me, but is there going to be anyone else in the room during that?"

She sends him a puzzled look, but then, laughing, she replies, "Oh, no, I'm a beta, Kevin. Just two betas in a room together shouldn't be a problem, should it?" He shakes his head, embarrassed as all get out, and she smiles sweetly.

Her examination is clinically quick, and he's left shivering in a paper hospital gown in a waiting room before he even realizes it's over.

 _Thank Heavenly Father it is, though_. No woman other than his wife should be that up close and personal with all his parts, he knows that much.

As he sighs in relief, someone says “Hello!” and he jumps about a foot in the air.

"Oh, I’m sorry, you scared me!” he says, turning around to find a little slip of a redheaded standing before him, a warm and welcoming smile on his face.

“That’s no problem,” the boy comments, holding out his hand. “I’m just glad to have some company. My name is Connor McKinley, and it’s great to meet you. You’re here for the surgery?”

Kevin nods, taking the offered hand. It’s the only warm thing in the absolutely frigid room, and he probably holds it a few seconds longer than he should.

“And your name?” Connor urges, looking up at him with wide blue eyes.

“I’m Kevin Price!” he announces, pretending he doesn’t feel his cheeks burning from _forgetting to say his own name_ , honestly.

“A little shy, are you?” the boy asks, winking.

“What? No, no, I’m not shy at all. I’m just a little tired, is all.” _And hungry_.

Connor smiles sympathetically and pats him on the back, half of his hand accidentally slipping inside the gown and brushing Kevin's skin. He jerks away, and Connor gasps, horrified.

“I am _so_ sorry!” he says, clasping one hand over his mouth. “I, I got too familiar, and I completely… I am so, so sorry, Kevin.” He seems to crumple at that, his own gown dwarfing his hunched shoulders.

Kevin takes a few steps back, just in case, but smiles and says “It’s fine, Connor,” who offers up a tentative little smile in response.

“I… It really isn’t, actually. We’re not… equals, and I really should start getting used to that.” Kevin’s brow wrinkles in confusion, but just as he’s about to ask what on _earth_ Connor’s talking about, the boy gestures to himself and says “See, you’re a beta, right? And you’re here to become an alpha? Well, it’s not the same for me.” And, since Kevin really is a smart guy, he gets it about half a second before Connor says “I need to be a beta; that’s why I’m here.”

Kevin sits back in one of the cheap plastic chairs, a soft “Oh,” passing his lips. He’s never met an omega boy before.

But Connor keeps talking, almost as if he’s trying to appease Kevin’s non-existent anger or disgust or whatever. “I didn’t know about it until a few months ago, of course; that’s why behavior isn’t exactly up to par yet. I swear I didn’t intend to lay a hand on you, Kevin.” He hesitates then, and asks softly, “Is is still all right if I use your first name?” And of course he nods, because why would it be a problem for this boy, his own age, to use his first name? But another wave of understanding hits him and, wow, he’s ninety-nine percent sure this whole issue of respect and deference was never mentioned in the sexual education textbook his mother gave him.

“Yes, Connor, it’s… it’s perfectly fine. I have absolutely no problem with it,” he responds, encouragingly, and the boy visibly relaxes.

“If I’m completely honest,” he says, “I don’t really mind too much. The, the omega thing. But… but my parents were absolutely livid. I have two omega sisters, and I guess they were really hoping for something more out of me, not to mention the church’s view on such things.

"I truly am grateful, though,” he continues, not quite looking up to meet Kevin’s eyes. “Everyone started to treat me differently after the results came back. I… I couldn’t find anyone at the center, you see, and so they sent me home.” Suddenly, he straightens up and smiles sunnily. “But I just have to stay positive, turn off those negative feelings and all that. That’s why I’m here, right? As long as the procedure works, I’ll make a wonderful beta and none of that will matter.”

“Of course,” Kevin replies, his mind whirling. His parents are both betas, as are most of the families they spend time with, and he’s never noticed any sort of treatment of the women in those relationships sounding like what Connor’s been through. But, Bishop Wright’s omega did seem to be very timid when she stood at her alpha’s side, and didn’t quite lead the way some of the other women did when they helped with the children’s services and Sunday School. For the very first time he wonders if that was more about how other people treated her than how she wanted to be. He doesn’t like that thought.

But that’s when the door opens, and two women in scrubs step in.

“Kevin Price?” the brunette one asks sweetly, while the blonde sends Connor an impatient look and says “Connor McKinley, come with me.”

Kevin stands and sends Connor what he’s sure is a dazzling smile. The other boy just sort of half-grins in response, and Kevin knows he has to do better than that.

"See you on the other side!"

He nods, and Kevin hardly hesitates before patting him on the back, just the way Connor had hm minutes before. They’re both whisked away, then, Kevin led off to the left and Connor to the right, and in that moment he realizes they might never see each other again. It’s a surprisingly unnerving thought.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I know this chapter was a little short, but don't worry! The action will start picking up soon. Please comment/leave kudos if you liked it :) Or feel free to shoot me a message at greerian.tumblr.com .


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's a slight flaw in Kevin's plan, but everything's going to work out just fine.

When Kevin wakes up, the only thought in his head is that _nothing hurts_. He smiles, and someone comes over to him.

“Mr. Price? Are you awake?” As he pries his eyes open, he sees it’s the brunette nurse from before. His vision is blurry, though, and his head is spinning, so he tries to reach up and rub his eyes or do _something_ to clear them. His wrists catch on something, though, and she takes his hand gently. “Oh, no, no, no, Kevin. You can’t move around yet; we don’t want to aggravate anything. And we can’t have you disturbing the IV.”

 _Oh yeah. There’s an IV in my arm_. He giggles at that, and she sends him an indulgent grin.

“That’s right, Mr. Price. Just keep that smile on, and everything’s going to work out just fine. That IV there has some nice anesthetics in it, but we’ll take that out in just a few minutes and get you on something a little less heavy, okay? You’ve got to be on top of your game, right?”

He nods enthusiastically, but he’s always on top of his game, and he tells her so. And when she laughs, he thinks that’s pretty, and tells her that, too.

“Oh, you flatter me,” she teases, and he feels his ears go hot. “Now, just hold still for me? I need to run a few tests.” It feels nice to not be worried when she says that, to not be worried about _anything_ , but even over the wonderful floaty feeling of whatever in going into his arm, he sees her frown and double check of the chart in her hands when the tests are finished.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, trying to sound innocent. He really hopes he didn't do anything wrong.

"Oh, no, Mr. Price; you’ve been absolutely wonderful. It’s just… these results aren’t exactly… well, they’re not telling me what I need to hear. They’re… inconclusive. It looks like we’re going to need to keep you here for a little bit, just until we get this little puzzle worked out. Is that all right?”

Nodding, he feels panic start to cut through the haze of his mind. “Can you please take the IV out now?”

By the time he’s escorted to a metal-walled room a few halls away, he’s definitely more alert and definitely more worried. But even though he keeps plying the nurse with questions, she just shakes her head and says she’ll have to see what the bloodwork says.

“It will all be all right, Mr. Price,” she assures him, opening the door. “Just give us a few days. Okay?”

He doesn’t get to respond before she pushes him in and locks the door behind him. He just stares at it, shocked that she actually just forced him in like that, but he turns when he hears a soft voice call “Kevin?”

It’s Connor, curled up on his side on one of the two beds in the room and pale as paper. “Connor!” he replies, lighting up with delight. “Hey there!”

The redhead sits up, wincing, and smiles back. “It’s good to see you again,” he says quietly.

Kevin cocks his head, coming over to join him. “Are you okay?” he asks, finally noticing that Connor’s hunched over with one arm around his stomach.

The boy nods, though, and Kevin swings himself up onto the end of the bed.

“It’s just… from the surgery, I guess,” Connor replies. “They left quite a gash.” Lifting up his shirt (and how come he gets regular clothes while Kevin’s stuck in a hospital gown?), he shows Kevin the sewn-up line that stretches across his stomach. Kevin winces in sympathy.

“I don’t really feel anything,” he confesses, brow furrowing. “You’d think I’d have something like that.”

But Connor shakes his head, brushing the fabric of his white t-shirt down carefully. “They had to… to remove the internal parts,” he says, avoiding Kevin’s eyes. “But… but now I’m… I’m just a normal beta, I guess. The pain will go away soon, I’m sure.”

The taller boy nods, face screwed up in thought, but he almost falls off the table when he realizes exactly why he doesn’t have a scar on his stomach.

“Kevin? Is something wrong?” Connor asks, his face a mask of concern, and Kevin turns absolutely scarlet.

“Yes! N- I mean no, I’m sorry, there’s nothing… nothing wrong! I just… nope, nothing! Um… I’m just going to, uh, find a, a bathroom real fast.” He practically runs to the door, but when he pushes on the handle it doesn’t even quiver. “What… are we locked in?!”

Connor points to a half open door on the other side of the room, watching Kevin in confusion, and Kevin goes straight into it, slamming the door shut. And then he lifts up his hospital gown and looks down and almost screams, because he didn’t exactly think through all the consequences of what becoming an alpha would be but now the evidence is right there in front of his face and he can’t run away from it now. His... well, his private parts looks different; there's something that he knows from the textbook to be a knot, and there's a scar above it, just beneath his waist, but the weirdest thing is, and Heavenly Father strike him down if he's making this up, everything looks... bigger.

Kevin's not exactly sure how to deal with that. But Connor calls out from the main room and he quickly straightens his hospital gown and joins him again, starting to realize past the fog of medication and embarrassment in his head that being locked in is a little... unnerving.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Connor says politely, holding out a bundle of fabric, "but this was delivered and I think it's for you."

Kevin shakes it out and is delighted to find it's a normal outfit, of actual _clothes_ , and if that doesn't say something about how surreal this situation is he's not really sure what does. Making his excuses again, Kevin dashes back to the bathroom to put on the outfit, feeling far more confident and comfortable than he had before, even if the pants are tighter in certain new areas. He beams when, striding out, Connor looks him over and his eyes get wider.

"Wow, Kevin! Don't you look just every inch an alpha?" he says admiringly, and Kevin's tempted to spin for him, the way he would whenever his mom commented on how sharp he looked for church. But he's not a child anymore, so he just grins and goes to sit on the farther bed.

"It does feel nice to be dressed again," he says, "even though these aren't my clothes." He and Connor are in matching outfits: white tees and black pants, with no shoes or socks or accessories, but while Connor looks like he could curl up into his (seriously, they must have gotten him things three sizes too large) Kevin feels like his are almost painted onto his body. _At least they're still comfortable_. "Wait a minute, did someone come and drop these off?"

When Connor nods, Kevin can feel his shoulders slump in relief (he was starting to feel like a prisoner for a minute there) but the other boy keeps going, gesturing to the door again. "Yes, see? There's a slot there that they passed them through. That'll be how they feed us."

“Wait, how do you know?”

Connor smiles, almost apologetic. “This is where I stayed before you came,” he says, brushing down the mussed sheets on his bed. “I guess they needed two of us for this experiment. But it means I kind of know how things work around here.”

Kevin looks between him and the door several times before he manages to ask “So they don’t even actually give you anything? It’s just… through the door, like we’re prisoners, or something?”

Connor half-shrugs at that, apparently deciding that making his bed is more important than even looking in Kevin’s general direction. “I wouldn’t put it like that,” he says, “but no, they don’t… make contact.”

It makes Kevin want to throw himself back onto his bed and throw a temper tantrum, and for one glorious second, he almost does. But he’s an alpha now, probably, and even if he isn’t, he just needs to keep his smile on, and keep his chin up. It’s all part of Heavenly Father’s plan, even if it’s incredibly inconvenient and also a little frightening. So, he’s locked in this room with an almost complete stranger and absolutely no knowledge of when he’ll get to leave. But, on the bright side, Connor seems like a really nice person and a good Mormon boy, and they apparently aren’t going to be starved or kept without clothing or anything, so it definitely could be worse. The thought gives him the determination to set his shoulders and smile and ask “How long were you here before I came, Connor?”

The redhead pauses, the sheets falling from his hands. “I… well, I don’t, um… I’m not certain, because there aren’t any, well, windows, in here, but… judging by… well. Um. A few months, I think.”

“... a few months?” Kevin’s smile grows wider in a way that’s probably not very nice to look at, but the medicines are messing with his head, and he’s completely and totally determined to remain strong, so it’s either that or he’s going to start yelling. “You were here for months?” Connor nods again, neatly straightening his pillow up against the sheet of steel that makes the headboard.

_He was here for months. Months without talking to other people. Months without seeing outside. Months in this… did they even give him any books or anything?_

“It will be better this time, though,” the redhead says, finally satisfied with the perfectly neat lines of his bed. “For one thing, I just have to stay until I recover. And, for the next part,” he blushes, “at least I have companionship, right?”

“...right.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please comment/leave kudos, or shoot me a message at greerian.tumblr.com!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Connor and Kevin get to know each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dub-con warning is for this chapter, so if that squicks you, you'll want to stop reading after "It's... Orlando".  
> If the entire issue of heat and all those lovely A/B/O dynamics squicks you, then you'll want to stop after Kevin apologizes. 
> 
> Otherwise, proceed with caution (continued notes at the end).

It’s not true, though. Three days later, Connor’s gash is mostly healed (which is remarkable and therefore a little worrying) but they're both still stuck in the room with no sign of being released anytime soon. Sometimes, when Connor thinks Kevin isn’t watching, he looks like might cry, but the redhead’s ‘turn it off’ motto always kicks in before the waterworks start, and Kevin is grateful.

He likes Connor, though, so maybe he’d be able to handle him crying all over the place. They talk a lot, by virtue of having nothing else to do, but Kevin doesn’t find himself getting too bored ( _thank Heavenly Father above_ ). He learns that Connor was quite active in his temple before he went to camp, and that he’s got his two older omega sisters and two younger siblings, another sister and a brother, and that, while he does have a soft spot for Disney, his favorite movies are a little more grown up than Kevin’s.

“Have you ever heard of the Truman Show?” he asks on day four, as Kevin tests out his new strength by trying to bench press the room’s only table.

Kevin shakes his head with a grunt, his muscles straining, and Connor’s face lights up.

“Oh, Kevin, it’s an amazing movie! When we get to leave, you have to watch it. It’s so good, even if it’s a little… well. It’s just really good. And it stars Jim Carrey!”

Kevin uses the pretense of lifting the table to avoid admitting that he has no idea who that is.

“But, Kevin, I have a question,” Connor says, swinging his legs childishly as he sits on his bed, watching. “Why are you trying to lift the table? That doesn’t look safe at all.”

He gives up, then, standing and leaning against the darned thing and trying not to breathe too hard. “I… well, for one thing, I was kind of bored.” The redhead sends him an apologetic smile, and he dismisses it with a quick gesture. “Second, um, I’m used to exercising more, to keep myself in shape, you know.”

The other boy nods, saying “Because our bodies are temples of Heavenly Father?”

It makes Kevin grin. “Yeah, that. And, also, because I think that the surgery worked. It’s making my muscles bigger.” He flexes for Connor, who goes a little pale before smiling and telling him that, yes, he does look more muscular than before.

Anyway, he feels like he and Connor are becoming friends, and, as boring as just sitting in this room is, it’s not as unbearable as it could be because of him. So he's a little worried when on day six the other boy merely picks at his tray of barely thawed chicken and vegetables.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and Connor nods, shoulders hunching slightly.

“I'm just... not hungry tonight,” he says, standing quickly. “I think I’ll go shower now. Thank you for asking.”

Kevin watches helplessly as he disappears into the bathroom; it always bothered him whenever any of his family would get sick, and he’s starting to feel the same way now.

So when he wakes up the next morning to the most amazing, comforting smell filling the sterile room, he smiles and stretches slowly, breathing deeply. It's soothing, and almost as good as the anesthetics for making his worries go away.  

“Wow, Connor, do you smell that? It’s… gosh, that’s incredible,” he says, rubbing at his eyes. He feels all warm and fuzzy inside until he sees his roommate hunched up at the end of his bed, perfectly still and absolutely silent. Kevin jumps up, already reaching out for him by the time his bare feet hit the floor, but Connor jerks back, looking up at him in fright.

"No! Don't... don't come any closer!" he says; he's been crying.

Kevin stops obediently, maybe five feet away, but then another wave of that honey-sweet smell washes over him and maybe he stumbles forward a little to catch himself on the end of the bed because _goodness gracious_ he's not sure if he can keep his feet under him.

"Connor..." he gasps, looking up at him. "What... what is that?" Because while he knows he's never smelled it before in his life, Connor looks absolutely terrified (and, better, like he knows _exactly_ what's going on) right now and is leaning as far away from Kevin as he can with a wall in the way.

He swallows, meeting Kevin's eyes, and says "I... I'm going into heat."

Well. _Well_. That's... not at all what he was expecting to hear, but heats are something he knows about. Kind of. Of course, there wasn’t a lot of detailed information in the textbook, but he knows generally what's going on. Besides, at church heats were often used as a metaphor for man's yearning for God. It's funny that only now does he see something weird about that.

"But betas d-"

 _Oh_.

"I'm sorry," he offers, genuinely.

If Connor's still an omega, which he has to be to still go into heat, then... his surgery didn't work. And all his time here was for nothing. As it hits Kevin just how awful it will be for him if his surgery doesn't work, either, he thinks he gets why Connor is so scared right now. "... is there anything I can do?" He knows there isn't, with the two of them locked in this room the way they are, but he can't help but ask.

The other boy shakes his head frantically, glancing at the door as if he might still be able to escape through it. "No, no, there's... there's nothing. It's too late for suppressants, even if I was allowed to take them, and I... it's happening whether I want it to or not. I can't..." He takes a deep breath, setting his shoulders again, but the posture doesn't look strong so much as it does desperate. “Kevin, I just need you to stay away from me. The closer we are, the harder this will be for both of us, okay?” He looks up at him quickly and pleads, voice cracking, “And, please, don’t touch me.”

Kevin nods quickly and turns away, forcing himself to walk all the back to his bed and as far away from Connor as physically possible. “Is it still okay to… uh, talk to you?” he asks. The comfortable ease from the past few days has been leeched away, and he feels like everything he does is weighing on a fragile thread; if he makes the wrong move it’s going to snap. He hates it.

Connor sighs, the sound soft and tired. "Yes, please," he says. "I would love a distraction."

So Kevin talks, and Connor takes deep breaths from his side of the room. Right when he starts to tell him about the time he won the co-op's middle school science fair, the redhead bolts to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

"...Connor?"

"I'm fine!" He hears in response. "Just... I need a moment. I'm sorry."

But there's no other sound from behind the door for a very long time, and Kevin starts to go crazy, half with worry and half with... something else. He tries pushups, crunches, stretching, any sort of movement, but it's like his energy is ten times what it used to be, and even with all the exercise he's hardly breaking a sweat. Finally he decides to run, even if it's just in circles like a hamster in a stationary wheel. He blames the pounding of his feet on the floor for distracting him when the bathroom door opens and suddenly hits him in the face.

"Oh my... oww!" He yells, stumbling back and falling on his rear. Connor gasps, reaching out to help him up, and, unthinking, Kevin takes his hand. He looks up at the other boy, opening his mouth to tell him to stop, and gathering the energy to pull away, but the moment they touch, something clicks into place.

"Oh," he says, and Connor's eyes go wide again.

"Oh, no. No, Kevin, I... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Kevin blinks. "I... what?" His brain feels like it's been dunked in syrup, or... or hot chocolate. It's all very warm. But that smell... it's gone sharper, or spicier. It makes something twist in his gut, and he suddenly realizes with painful clarity that Connor is in heat, and that he, as an alpha, wants him. Like _that_. He's never felt this way before; it's... weird. But nice. No, not nice. It's hot; it burns like fire. It's confusing, and warm, and just... not right. But... but, then again... maybe it's just more right than anything else has ever been. He doesn't know; he doesn't care.

By the time he can make his eyes focus again, Connor has disappeared behind the bathroom door, and he's saying something slow and soothing.

"Kevin, I really need you to listen to me. I should have said this before we touched, but it's too late now."

The brunette finds himself plastered to the door, craving the sound of the voice from the other side. "Connor, please," he murmurs, clinging to the cold metal, and he shivers at the moan he hears in response.

"Kevin, I can't. We... Kevin, you've... your surgery worked, okay? And when we touched, I made you go into rut. D- do you know what that means?"

Kevin turns absolutely scarlet. He's not supposed to go into a rut until he meets his perfect one, and they kiss at the altar, but he's here in some research facility, practically salivating at the idea of a boy hiding from him in a bathroom. The sheer shame and frustration clears his head for a moment and he jerks away from the door.

"What? No!" He shouts, looking down at himself in revulsion.

"Kevin, please!" Connor pleads. "I really need you to listen to me. This isn't... it isn't a one time thing. This doesn't mean we're destined or anything, so _please_ don't try to run away. It's... it's because I'm in heat, I promise." He sounds like he's close to tears, and it draws Kevin back to the door again. This urge to hold Connor close is terrifying but it's starting to cloud his mind again, and maybe it isn't really so bad. "But Kevin, now that you're in rut and I... we're going to have to..." He trails off, and Kevin wants to tear the door down.

"What?" he shouts, his voice much lower and rougher than he remembers.

Connor whimpers, and the sound goes straight to that weird twist in his stomach again.

"Kevin... We're going to have to, to s-sleep together. But we can try and p-put it off for as long as we can."

Kevin, the small part of him that's still in control, wants to back off, sit down, and process what the _heck_ he's just heard, but most of him is filled with a fierce, disgusting joy that demands he get his hands on Connor as soon as possible. Whatever's left over is panickong in the worst kind of way. 

"I'll stay in here," Connor promises, and Kevin can't hold back a groan. "I'll s-stay as long as I can," he repeats, "and maybe they'll let us out before... before I can't handle it anymore. But Kevin, honey, I need you to be strong. Can you d-do that for me?" He's audibly shaking, and Kevin's body is aching with the desire to hold him.

"Yes," he gasps, clinging to the door. "Whatever you want."

"Kevin..." His name is drawn out in a half cry, half moan, and he knows that Connor's crying in there. It doesn't seem awkward at all, now; just so, so completely wrong. "Kevin, I won't be able to hold out for l-long. Just... p-promise me you won't try and touch me until I... until I'm ready."

It hurts, it really hurts, to think of Connor holding himself away, but he croaks out a harsh "I promise," fighting with everything he has to say the words.

"I'll come to y-you," Connor says, sniffling, "but... I want to have a, a w-word. Something so you'll kn-know it's time."

Kevin clears his throat. "Orlando," he says, with the last of his moral strength. "I've always wanted to go to Orlando."

Connor moans. "Orlando. O- okay. When I s-say 'Orlando'... That's it."

Kevin nods, prying himself away from the door, and immediately throws himself on Connor's bed, absorbing the beautiful, wonderful, arousing scent of him from the sheets.

That's about the time he realizes that the twisting in his gut is now a throbbing, and it's not just his gut. The bulge in his pants shocks him out of this dangerously sweet haze, and he runs to the door to the hallway, banging on it frantically.

"Please!" he cries. "Please help us! You can't make us do this!" He knows no one is going to answer, but that doesn't stop him from pounding his fists into the metal, crying out that it isn't fair, that he's never done this before, that they're just kids. "Please..." He repeats, voice cracking. "This isn't right. Connor... we don't want this." Because, he knows, even if the two of them... do _it_ , it's not going to be right. They aren't each other's _one_ and it's not Heavenly Father's plan and it's all going wrong, and Kevin doesn't want his first time to feel like this. But silence greets him; silence from the hallway and broken moans from the direction of the bathroom. He doesn't want to think about what Connor's doing inside.

By the time the moans stop, though, he's trying it himself, burying his face and his shame in Connor's pillow. It takes him a moment to hear that Connor's calling for him, then. He can't make himself ask if it's Orlando, yet, but Connor just quietly asks if Kevin would mind taking off his shirt and setting it outside the bathroom. He has moved away by the time the door opens and the shirt is pulled inside, but the sound Connor makes as he takes it reaches him loud and clear and wrings his release from him, making him spill across the bed.

It happens three more times before he can finally make himself sleep, and Connor stays locked in the bathroom.

Hours later, he jumps up at the touch of a burning hand on his arm.

"Connor?" he whispers. He can barely make out the other boy's sillhouette in the darkness, but he can see the tears in his eyes. 

"Kevin," he replies, smiling weakly. "It's... Orlando."

And Kevin hugs him, taking him in his arms and giving what comfort and protection he can until the boiling heat under his skin is too much, and he has to pull back. The tears start running down the other boy's cheeks, and he wants, no, he _needs_ to kiss them away, but when he leans in, Connor averts his face, wiping off the tears himself.

"Kevin, have... have you done this before?" he asks; and somehow Kevin knows that he's trying as hard as he can to put this off. But he can't lie, even so, and so he shakes his head as he scoops Connor up and carries him to his own bed, the one that isn't currently covered in _dirty things_.

And he tries to go slow; he really does. He tries to be gentle, but there's a fire burning in his blood that seems to move him without him knowing, and when Connor's spread out before him, moaning into the sheets and crying "Please... please, Kevin," he can't make himself hold back.

When they're tied together, afterwards, Kevin tries to brush the hair out of Connor's eyes, and he tells him "I'm sorry," as he holds him close, but there's no reply.

Kevin's head clears right around the time Connor pulls away, standing shakily and pulling on his clothes. He watches him for a moment, frozen with shock, then hurriedly averts his eyes. The intoxicating scent from before, both its incarnations, seem to be fading, and with them go his fragile peace of mind and the warm feeling in his chest. He wants to ask what on earth just happened, and what possessed them to do, well, _that_ , but considering they can't even look in each other's directions that maybe that's a question better left for later.

Connor brings him his shirt from the bathroom, neatly folded, and he puts it on as fast as he can before jumping into his pants. He strips his bed, just for something to do, but by the time the sheets are piled on the floor, he's dressed, and after he's made a trip to the bathroom to style his hair and everything, there's absolutely nothing left to do and no more ways to avoid conversation. Just as he opens his mouth to ask how long it's going to be before Connor will talk to him, the door opens. Both of them turn to look at it with wide eyes, and there stand the two nurses from before.

"Kevin Price?" The brunette says, her tone just as sweet as before. "Your tests all came back positive, so congratulations! You're an alpha!"

He doesn't stay behind to hear what the other woman says to Connor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who skipped at "I'm sorry": Connor goes into heat, and Kevin goes into rut, and they do it.  
> For those who skipped at "It's... Orlando," Kevin and Connor do it.  
> It's kind of obvious and this warning system is pretty clumsy, but I really don't want to trigger anyone, and this chapter personally made me kind of uncomfortable. Also, just so long as you know that Kevin and Connor did have sex, the rest of the story will make perfect sense. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please comment/leave kudos, or feel free to shoot me a message on my tumblr! My url is greerian.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which curiosity kills the cat, and Kevin learns that grown-ups have to deal with the consequences of their actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in celebration of me finally writing the climax of this story, so I really hope you enjoy.

The researchers "compensate" Kevin for volunteering, handing him an actual wallet full of cash. When he protests and tries to hand it back, the nurse just forces it into his hands and says "We _insist_ , Mr. Price." And so he's sent on his merry little way with $10,000 more than he had before and an official government exemption from the mandatory summer camp program. He’s willing to admit that he panicked a little at that; only special needs people get exemptions, or people who are really sick, but when he asked the nurse just laughed and assured him that the exemption is temporary, until the “long-term” test results come in. He hadn’t had the courage to ask what exactly those results are for; he’s already an alpha, isn’t he? Of all things, his experience with Connor should have proved that.

For a moment he had almost told the nurse about what happened, thinking that, medically speaking, it might be relevant. But the moment he let his mind wander in that general direction he felt his face go scarlet and he couldn’t make himself say anything. It was far too private of a thing for him to just _talk_ about. So he just goes along with what the nurse says, and stays quiet as another government agent drives him back to the airport and he gets on a flight back to Salt Lake City, and he doesn’t look at the wallet once he puts it away, and he doesn’t say anything when he’s driven to his house in Provo and he gets out and waves goodbye to woman who drove, who just pulls out of the driveway and disappears.

He lets himself in because today is Tuesday and that means nobody will be home until eight and he takes his dirty clothes to the laundry room and sorts them neatly and he goes upstairs to put everything else away and then he just curls up in bed to try and think about what exactly _happened_ but that doesn’t really work because he’s been trapped in a room for so long and then the car and the plane and a car again and so he gets up again and goes for a run because he can’t let himself get out of shape and he runs and he runs and he runs and runs and runs until there’s no more air coming into his lungs even though it’s still going out and he’s bent in half leaning against a telephone pole but he still can’t breathe and he really just doesn’t know what to do and it’s not comfortable in the _least_ because he’s _Kevin Price_ and he always knows what to do and he _has_ to know what to do and goshdarn it if he doesn’t know what to do then who’s going to and who’s going to help him with this because he certainly can’t tell his _parents_ that he wasn’t their perfect alpha son because they’d be so ashamed of him and _he_ ’s already ashamed of him and why did they have to pay him for it like he’s some kind of product at the grocery store and everything just hits him at once and he had sex with someone and it was his first time and he gave it to somebody who’s definitely not the one Heavenly Father has in mind for him and it’s not like he can take it back and he really needs God’s help right about now because he doesn’t know what to _do_. It’s the worst feeling in the world.

But somehow he manages to get back home, to take a shower, and to set out the ingredients his mom will need to make the dinner posted on the weekly schedule on the fridge. He texts his mom to tell her he's home, and he reads a few Psalms, and even though everything seems sort of blank, and numb, at least he's not panicking.

It's not good to live in fear; he just needs to leave things up to Heavenly Father, and everything will start making sense.

*****

Kevin's family is ecstatic that he's home, but since he doesn't really have anything to do since he's not at camp with all his friends and his dad says he can have his exemption time off from school and work, they don't really know what to do with him. He gets bored pretty quickly, even though he helps him mom with the little ones as best he can. She's grateful for his help, he knows, but it doesn't feel like it's enough.

 _It's funny_ , he thinks one night, _I feel so... protective of everything now_. When Sarah mentions going to youth group with her friends, he tenses; when Jack gets picked up by his carpool for basketball practise, he makes sure his brother texts him the moment he's done. Not to mention how carefully he watches little Rebecca. He's never noticed before just how many normal, everyday things can be bad for babies like her. And yes, three years old still counts as a baby, in his eyes.

He attributes the feelings to growing up, and not just being a little boy anymore, but one day, as he's trying to focus on memorizing the Sermon on the Mount, the thought hits him that maybe it's an alpha thing that he's never learned about.

From then on he uses his hour of computer privileges a day to research alphas, and then betas, and then omegas. And there is far more information out there than he could have ever imagined. His sexual education textbook pales in comparison to the wealth of government information and non-profit sites he finds, and he's kind of shocked at how much got left out. It's absolutely wild how much he learns, and how _different_ everything is than he thought. One hour turns out to not be enough, and he gets his mom to drive him to the library as many days a week as she can swing it. If he had his own car, he'd take that, but the Price family doesn't need a third car just for Kevin to go _read_.

He learns that yes, the new protectiveness is due to the alpha hormones in his body, and that his desire for praise is probably going to go up as well. Considering that he was told it was always sort of an omega trait, to be made fun of, he feels a little vindicated in his own wish for compliments when he sees that. But the books also say that Connor was right about his rut, and that they're much, _much_ more easily triggered than people like to think. As long as the omega is attractive or in heat, any contact could push him into another one. Kevin makes sure to avoid contact with the perky omega librarian after that.

The part that scares him, though, is when he finally gives in to his curiosity and reaches for the books on male omegas. The pictures inside are absolutely pornographic, though, all half-clothed boys in seductive poses, and he buries the tome in a stack of other, more innocent ones to get them checked out at the front counter.

He ignores it, sitting there on his desk, night after night, and shares with his family more innocent facts like did they know that betas can lean more towards alpha or omega behaviors, and that female alphas have a 33% chance of never discovering their true secondary gender? And sometimes it just gets him weird looks at the dinner table, but to them it's something for him to pass the time and he's fine with that.

But, finally, over a month after coming back home, and after renewing his borrowing privileges on it once already, long after everyone else has gone to bed, he picks up _the_ book.

Despite the pictures, it's actually very informative and Kevin finds himself getting lost in the world of the weakest sex in a way that almost feels like he's reading a fairy tale. It's interesting, but alien; at least it's not something he'll ever have to deal with. But then he sees the title of Chapter Three: Cultural Views of Male Omegas (the first being an introduction and the second a little history lesson), and things take a turn for the worse.

The book lays out in cold, horrifying detail the various treatments of omegas in the modern world: the sexualization (and Kevin is now completely sure that he never wants to know what a fetish is), the lack of rights, the very distinct gender roles, and, worst of all, their lack of allowed participation in the church. Apparently there are places where alphas can _rent out_ the omegas they're _mated_ with, like they're some kind of property or something, and legally it's okay!

Kevin thinks he might puke.

He doesn't stay to finish the chapter, rapidly flipping to the biological section instead because, despite himself, he's always wanted to know how exactly male omegas can have babies of their own, and at least he knows this book will be honest with him. But it's hardly any better than the, the _previous_ chapter because he has to read about all the _desires_ they have during heat, and there's a good part of him that winces in sympathy at what Connor had to go through. "An omega's heat, already difficult, can be exasperated by the presence of an alpha, unmated or otherwise," it reads. "Even family members can cause an adverse reaction. The omega will not sustain lasting harm, however, unless said alpha is in rut, in which case it can be dangerous or fatal to abstain from intercourse."

That probably shouldn't be reassuring, but at least he knows that he saved Connor's life; he didn't sacrifice his first time in vain. It's a comforting thought.

But on the next page is a chart, a schedule of the average omega's hormone cycle. He almost passes over it, glancing uninterested over the colored blocks that show each stretch of time, but then he sees that the last stretch, in solid red, is labelled "heat", and it lasts for three to five days. He stops, staring at the page with a frown. Connor's heat had only lasted for a day, a day and a half at most. He knows, because in the list of symptoms it said that the incredible smell he remembered was the biggest outward indicator of heat. The book must be wrong.

But he gives it the benefit of the doubt, searching out the section about interrupted or stunted heats. He mumbles the paragraph aloud, skimming through it quickly. "Interrupted heats are rare... health reasons or stress... Usually indicates lack of fertility or serious health concerns... But only two ways to completely halt heat... highly illegal substances or-" He stops. Pauses. Reads it again. "Pregnancy." Well. Connor for sure wasn't on anything illegal. But he... he wouldn't have been pregnant before, though, would he? No, that's ridiculous; the surgery was supposed to make him a beta. He had thought that all  _those_ parts were removed. He wouldn't have done that if he was going to have a _baby_.

Frantically he turns to the next page, reading each sentence, each word, because the book _has_ to be wrong. "An omega cannot go into heat if pregnant, because the human Chorionic Gonadotropin (hGC) hormone released interferes with the chemical processes undergone in the proto-uterus to begin heat (which then begins its rapid development); this is the same mechanism used by heat suppressants (though it should be noted that these, when used in recommended doses, cannot fully stop a heat from happening or progressing).  If an omega becomes pregnant during their heat, however, the amount of hCG secreted is, by necessity, enough to stop the heat entirely and begin the foetal and uterine development processes. In short, a pregnancy is the only safe and foolproof way to prevent or bring a premature end to a heat."

Kevin makes himself read that sentence three times, slowly, but it still doesn't seem like enough. What he's thinking can't be the truth; that couldn't possibly have happened. Connor's surgery couldn't have gone that horribly wrong.

But the words on the page don't change, even when he turns back and reads the whole paragraph again. It makes a horrifying amount of sense, reading it the second time around, but he refuses, he absolutely _refuses_ to believe that Connor... that he and... that what happened resulted in...

Quietly, so he won't disturb anyone else in the house, he marks the page, closing the book and resting it on the desk, and takes a deep breath. _It's all going to work out_ , he tells himself. _This is all part of Heavenly Father's plan._ But he knows what Heavenly Father's plan for him is and _this_ is _not it_. It's not; he just knows it isn't. It can't be. There has to be a mistake in the book, or else he misinterpreted the signs. That must be it; while he's rarely wrong, this whole debacle happened over a month ago, and his memories are tainted by the traumatic experience. He just isn't remembering correctly. That has to be it.

He keeps taking deep breaths, somehow finding himself hunched over with his head in his hands, and tells himself that he's calm, that it's all a big misunderstanding on his part, that's what it _has_ to be, but then his phone rings and he jerks upright, slamming his head against the bunk above. The pain is almost welcome as he gropes blindly for his phone, grabbing it as it vibrates in his hand.

"Hello?" He answers, rubbing at the bump forming on his scalp. "Um, I mean, hello! This is Kevin Price speaking." The voice on the other end chills him to the bone.

"Kevin? It's... it's Connor McKinley. Could you come pick me up?"  

**  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please comment/leave kudos, or shoot me a message!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the consequences make themselves known.

It turns out that Connor is in Salt Lake City, somehow. It's a miserable, rainy night out, and when he mentions a few seconds into Kevin's stupefied silence that he's calling from a payphone and he doesn't have much time Kevin immediately says he'll be there in an hour and runs to get his mom's keys.

She gives him a funny look, glancing up at the clock, but his protective instincts are wildly out of control, and when he says "Please, Mom; I have to. It's to help out a... friend," she hands them over and simply says "Drive safe, son."

The drive to Salt Lake City passes in a sort of mindless haze, and Kevin's already within the city limits when he realizes that he didn't even turn on any music. He considers it, but can't bring himself to turn on the radio and so just continues in silence.

The same sort of mindlessness from when he first got home settles over him, and he's pulling up to the curb of the street Connor had given him before he even realizes it. It's almost eleven o'clock, and there's nobody out in the rain even though he's in _that_ part of town.

Hesitating for only a second, he rolls down the window and calls "Connor?" Nothing moves in the shadows, and he resigns himself to turning off the car and stepping out into the night. "Connor?" He tries again, crossing his arms and ducking his head against the rain. He feels incredibly defenseless out here; but Psalm 23 flashes into his mind and straightens up confidently. "Connor McKinley!" He shouts, making a megaphone of his hands. "It's Kevin, Kevin Price! Are you out there?"

A shape slips out of a nearby alley, coming towards him; dripping wet, Connor looks even smaller than he did swimming in the clothes he got after his surgery, even though he's carrying a suitcase, too.

"Kevin?" he calls, soft and wary.

Kevin smiles, relieved to have found him, and takes a few steps forward until he remembers how incredibly awkward this is.

"Yep, it's me," he replies, clasping his hands. "How about we get you inside, huh?" So he opens the passenger side door to the family van like a gentleman, and closes the door after him,  and then he decides that he is woefully underprepared for this and they need to swing by a gas station for a blanket or something for Connor because watching him shiver as they pull away from the curb is doing strange things to his stomach and the last time that happened around _him_ is something he'd rather not think about.

"Thank you," Connor says, huddled into the corner between his seat and the car door.

"You're welcome," Kevin replies, smiling brightly as he cranks up the heat. The redhead practically melts as the warm air starts to flow out, and Kevin's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "So, what brings you to Salt Lake City? And, uh, how did you get my number?"

Connor straightens up uncomfortably. "I was given your number when I was checked out," he says tightly. "I was told that you had my information as well. But I guess that doesn't matter anymore."

Kevin suddenly regrets not checking the wallet. "Oh. Why not?"

Connor purses his lips. "I can't afford my phone anymore; I sold it a week or so ago."

The brunette frowns, changing lanes quickly. "Yeah, what is up with that? How come you had to call with a payphone? And I thought you lived in Denver."

There's silence from the other side of the car, and Kevin risks a quick glance over. Connor's got that face, the expression that means he's trying very hard not to show how he's feeling. The 'turn it off' look.

But finally, he mutters "My parents kicked me out."

Kevin almost slams on his breaks. "They- what? Why?"

"... I guess they couldn't accept an omega son," he replies quietly.

"That's ridiculous," is Kevin's immediate response. And it is. Yeah, maybe having a lot of omega children is hard to deal with, but they're still _family_ , and you don't just abandon family.

"No," Connor says, "It makes sense." At least he doesn't sound happy about it. "The church doesn't believe it's natural. I'm not... Kevin, it's just... I did, _we_ did all that we could to change it, but it didn't work. They did their best, Kevin, and it's not right to expect more from them. It's... it must be against God's will."

"But what did you do?" Kevin asks. "How did... where did you stay, this whole time?"

“I… um. Here and there, I guess. My dad gave me enough for a plane ticket, so… so that’s why I’m here. I didn’t expect to have to have you come s- pick me up, though. I’m sorry for… for bothering you.”

“What? No,” Kevin shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. We can’t have you stay- I mean, stuck out on a night like this, can we?” He grins cheerfully, but Connor doesn’t seem to notice. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he sees the boy absent-mindedly wrap one arm around his stomach, and it sends a shiver straight through him as he remembers what exactly he had learned just before Connor called.

He clears his throat awkwardly, keeping his gaze firmly focused on the pavement in front of them, and begins: “So, uh... um, Connor, there was… I mean, it has been a little while since we, um, _met_ , and in the meantime I’ve… I found s- I’ve been doing a little… reading. Research, you could say.”

He actually feels Connor’s tension increasing from across the car. “Research? That sounds interesting,” he replies politely. “About what?”

“... omegas.” He doesn’t let the other boy respond, barging forward while he feels he still can. “And, you know, I found some really interesting stuff. I think the textbook in my curriculum was pretty lacking, if you know what I mean. It was definitely an eye-opener, the new stuff, but, uh, anyway, I found some really neat information on heats? And… and I was just… curious, I guess, since we, well, since you’re- you _were_ , um, it just… it said some interesting things.”

Connor swallows, rubbing his eyes quickly, and asks “Kevin, what are you trying to say?”

“Well, not much, really, but it said some… it said that the only way to stop a heat was… um…”

He must have paused for too long, because Connor finishes his sentence, saying “With a pregnancy.”

After a second, he nods, and Connor sighs.

“Yes, Kevin. I… I’m pregnant.”

With news like that, Kevin thinks he really can’t be blamed for accidentally accelerating instead of putting on the brakes, and it really isn’t his fault that the light turns yellow instead of staying a nice, safe green. But thank Heavenly Father Connor still seems to be in possession of his senses, because he grabs his arm and yells “Kevin, stop!” and it startles him enough to have them screech to a halt halfway through the crosswalk.

Connor gasps, bracing himself against the dashboard, and Kevin just holds onto the steering wheel, even after they’ve stopped and he catches his breath again.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, as the few cars still out and about cross in front of them. “But… that’s a bit, um, that’s _interesting_ news to hear in a car. Um. Driving.”  

Hiding his face in his hands for a second, and therefore taking them away from Kevin’s arm, Connor shudders. “I’m sorry,” he replies. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

Now that’s something he wasn’t expecting. “Excuse me?”

“I thought I could… I can take care of it on my own.”

“You were going to get an abortion?!” He doesn’t mean to yell, but there is _no way_ on earth that he’s going to let that happen, no matter how… difficult this situation is going to be. “Abortion is murder, Connor!”

The redhead looks horrified through his exhaustion. “No, no, of course not! I wouldn’t… Goodness, no. I couldn’t possibly do that. But I did think that I could take care of myself until… _it_ ’s born, then I could put it up for adoption and figure my situation out from there.”

“But you can’t,” Kevin retorts helplessly. That’s obvious, because why else would he be driving to Salt Lake City at eleven o’clock at night to pick up his- this guy? “Did you try shelters? Or the church? Couldn’t you get a job, at least for a while?”

There's not a business out there that would employ a visibly pregnant omega, he knows that, but surely Connor didn’t actually have to live on the _streets_.

“I did,” the redhead replies, his voice going steely. “But the church doesn’t help pregnant male omegas, no matter what their circumstances. And someone tried to- to steal my things when I went to a shelter.”

Kevin really just wants to laugh, even though that’s not anything close to a good response, because _really_? He’s nineteen, exempted from camp, and a handsome alpha from a well-off family, but he’s now stuck with a pregnant, male omega. A male omega that he _got_ pregnant. And, in about (no, less than) nine months, there’ll be a baby to deal with too.

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” Connor says then, and Kevin belatedly realizes that the other boy has probably seen the desperation on his face. “I just… if I can stay at your house for a few nights, I can work out a plan. Maybe the church in Provo will be more welcoming.”

Kevin shakes his head, finally pulling onto the highway. “If the people in Salt Lake City wouldn’t take you in, why would Provo be any different?” Connor opens his mouth to reply, but Kevin cuts him off. “I’m taking you home. We’ll… I’ll have to talk to my parents. _And_ Heavenly Father.”

God wouldn’t judge him for having a kid with an omega, would he? It’s certainly not his fault. And Connor could have died. It just wouldn’t be fair to punish him for that. Especially if he puts the child up for adoption as soon as it's born and separates himself from Connor afterwards. Yeah, that’s a stable plan. He just has to figure out what to do with him in the meantime.

Connor seems to understand what he's thinking, or at least he realizes that it’s better if he doesn’t say anything, because he just nods, sighing, and curls up into his seat. Sometime between that and the first exit for Provo, Kevin remembers to exit for a gas station and buys Connor a hoodie that the redhead gratefully slips into, falling asleep soon afterwards. But he doesn’t trust himself to look over at him the whole way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please comment/leave kudos, or send me a message!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the consequences are dealt with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of Monday.

Kevin wakes, groggy and disoriented, sometime after six, a nagging feeling that there’s _something_ to take care of keeping him from relaxing. He frowns, trying to remember why exactly he’s so tired, and then his gaze falls on the stack of books by his bedside. It hits him all at once, and he almost slams his head into the bunk above him in his rush to get up and get to the living room before his mom does. He and Connor had gotten home at midnight the night before, and he had sloppily made up a bed for Connor on the couch before falling into bed himself, but he hadn’t told the redhead anything of what he should and shouldn’t say. _What if he tells mom about the surgery?_

He doesn’t even get dressed, running barefoot to check on Connor in sweatpants and a holey t-shirt (and it’s probably better if he avoids the thought of his hair altogether), but _of course_ his mom and Connor are sitting in the kitchen, talking politely with each other. They both turn to look at him, Connor with a tired yawn and his mom with a suspicious stare.

“Uh… good morning,” he says, brushing his hair down with one hand.

“Good morning, dear,” his mom replies, too sweetly. “Your… friend, Connor, was just telling me about how you two met in Denver. Would you care to tell me when you went to Colorado without the rest of us?”

Kevin sighs, and Connor mouths ‘I’m sorry’ at him, looking away apologetically.

“Mom, I…. you’re going to want to wait until Dad’s here.” She nods firmly, standing quickly.

“All right then. I’ll go wake him up, and then we’ll talk this out before he has to leave for work.” As soon as she leaves, Kevin slumps into the chair she abandoned, defeated.

“You didn’t tell your parents?” Connor asks, wrapping both hands around the mug of peppermint tea Mrs. Price had given him.

“No,” Kevin groans, rubbing his eyes, which are burning with exhaustion; he doesn't stay up late for a reason. “It never… I mean, I didn’t really want them to know.”

What Connor thinks of that he doesn’t get to know because his parents enter, then, sitting across from the boys with matching frowns.

“Kevin,” his dad says, meeting his eyes, “your mother tells me you have something to share with us.”

And so he spills the whole story, even what happened during Connor’s heat, trying to ignore the fidgeting of the redhead seated next to him. He stumbles over bits of it, but by the end his mom isn’t glaring and his dad doesn’t seem like he’s about to revoke his internet privileges for the next year so he’s almost not terrified.

“Kevin, do you really think that… what you did about your gender was the right thing?” Mom asks, a furrow of worry forming between her eyebrows. “Did you pray about it?”

“Of course, Mom,” he replies. “I would never have made such a big step without asking for guidance, but… but it can't be a coincidence that they held this experiment right when I needed it. When God closes a door, he opens a window, right?"

She doesn't respond, merely closing her eyes in prayer, but his dad responds firmly, saying "Yes, and He helps those who help themselves. I'm proud of you, Kevin, going for what you know is right."

And finally Kevin can take a deep breath, knowing that he's not about to be punished.

"I'm not pleased about the... consequences," he continues, pointedly looking at a cowed Connor, "but I understand that it was necessary, and it's time you moved out anyway." Both he and Connor freeze at that, and his dad sends them an amused look. "I'll get you and this omega an apartment to stay in together until the baby's born, and then it's all yours, Kevin, to pay for _and_ to decide who you'll let live in it. And remember, the appeal of any omega is strong, but if you keep your eyes on Heavenly Father and trust His plan for you, I know you'll make the right decisions."

Connor looks over at him, confused, but Kevin just buries his face in his hands.

“Thanks, Dad,” he replies, not even bothering to look up, and his dad just pats him on the back before kissing his wife and leaving for work. She, in turn, gets up and starts preparing breakfast for the family, softly humming a hymn as she works.

Kevin doesn’t move, just trying to make himself _focus_ on everything that he’s going to have to _do_ and whether the government exemption is going to last nine months and how exactly they’re going to make this work until Connor sighs and asks “What are you thinking?”

He laughs a little, rubbing his face sleepily. “I’m just… figuring out how to pull this off.”

The redhead frowns. “Oh, yes, it’s going to be so hard having your parents provide a home for you for nine months.”

Kevin stares at him. “...is that sarcasm?”

“No, Kevin, I’m being perfectly serious. How unfortunate it is for you that your parents took the news of you being a teen father incredibly well and aren’t going to tell you that you’re an abomination and that they never want to see you again.”

“Are you seriously trying to say that this isn’t a… a problem?” he hisses. “Because there’s more expenses than just a place to live! What about food? What about clothes? Babies are expensive!”

Connor just stares him down and says “Apply for the government subsidy. You can, since you’re the alpha.”

“...what?”

"The government subsidy for unmated alpha/omega pairs," he repeats slowly, as if Kevin is too dumb to understand him any other way. "Do you know what a subsidy is, Kevin?"

"Yes, I know what a subsidy is!" he replies. "But you can't just get money for... for not being bonded!"

Connor looks like he's resisting a mighty urge to roll his eyes. "You can if you're expecting."

"Well, if they'll pay you money for having kids, then how come you didn't ask for it?"

Connor's expression goes stone cold. "Do you really think that the same government that bans omegas from eighty-five percent of the job market would let an unmated, pregnant, nineteen-year-old, male omega apply for financial support?"

After a minute, Kevin shakes his head.

*****

Connor spends the day with the Price kids, helping out with their homework and making lunch so that Mrs. Price can go volunteer at the temple's wives' program. Kevin tries to not find it endearing, but he guesses his instincts don't really care what his head thinks about it. And his siblings like the redheaded guest, even though Jack gave him a few weird looks when he was introduced. Micah even goes so far as to take Connor's face in his hands and say "You ah pitty," as seriously as he can over his utterly scrambled phonics flashcards. Connor blushes, taking the little boy's hands, and Kevin finds himself degreeing, _darn it_.

He still hates that they're stuck together, of course, and that his life as he knew it is on the brink of falling apart around him, but that's hardly Connor's fault. So, in general, they actually have a good day, tolerating each other, until Anna asks why Connor's there instead of the "pretty lady you promised."

Sending Connor a desperate look, he laughs and says "Well, you know, sometimes Heavenly Father's plan doesn't always line up with what we want." Connor presses his lips together firmly, and excuses himself a few minutes later.

Kevin chases after him as he walks down the sidewalk, grabbing his arm when he catches up.

"I don't remember asking for company on my walk, Kevin," he says, shaking him off.

Kevin doesn't really listen. "Hey, look, I get that you're angry with me," _that_ is _what's going on, right?_ "but I don't want you to run away or something."

"I'm not going to run away from semi-permanent financial stability," he replies, continuing steadily down the sidewalk, "and your family is lovely."

"But I'm not? Well, I'm sorry that I'm a little concerned about this rapid change to my life that I learned about _last night_!"

"Just because I knew a month ago didn't make it any less sudden for me," he says placidly. "I'm supposed to be the one with random mood swings, you know. Since I'm the one who's actually pregnant."

 _Oh_.

And does that make him feel stupid. A sure sign of his mom being pregnant is her behavior becoming increasingly sweet; maybe Connor's is this incredible level of sass. And Kevin, by... proximity, or something, is just going a little crazy. That's a nice explanation, actually.

"I'm sorry."

Connor stops, looking back at him. "You're sorry?"

"Yeah, I... I should have kept your... needs and how you're feeling about this whole thing in mind." Connor lifts one eyebrow, and that's a lot more imposing than you would think. "Do you forgive me?" he finishes tentatively.

Connor closes his eyes, almost exactly mirroring Mrs. Price after the morning’s conversation, and nods quickly.

While he’s pretty sure that Connor’s not being entirely genuine, Kevin’s not an idiot; he’ll take what he can get.   
“We’re going to have to get along for a while,” he says, coming up to walk with Connor. “So we should probably get to know each other a little more. I mean, I know some stuff, but… hey! We should have a night each week that we just… dedicate to each other. Like family game night.”

Connor sends him an odd look, but crosses his arms and says “Well, your taste in movies is something we could work on. How about movie nights?”

Kevin gasps. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know that Disney movies are absolute genius.”

Connor shakes his head gravely, and Kevin thinks he means it and that they’re going to need to have a _serious_ talk until he sees the hint of a smirk on his face, and he grins. “Admit it, you like Disney, too!”

“Kevin, honey, I like Disney. Unlike you, though, I’m not obsessed with it.”

Kevin blushes a little, bumping Connor’s shoulder with his own. “You only say 'honey' when you’re not angry?”

He looks a little surprised for a second, then laughs softly. “Oh, yeah, I guess so. I’m sorry; I'm just used to it with people from… from my old ward. Especially with the kids. I guess you’re just so immature I have to treat you like them.”

Kevin pretends to be offended, pushing him away, and for a minute it just feels like they’re new friends. He wishes that it could stay that way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please comment/leave kudos, or shoot me a message!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kevin starts to grow up.

"Well," Kevin huffs, collapsing onto his newly assembled sofa. It creaks ominously, and he levels a glare at it, as if that will keep it from falling apart beneath him.

"Well," Connor echoes, leaning against the wall. He looks as exhausted as Kevin feels, resting one hand gently against his stomach. There's hardly anything there, but he still finds it comforting, apparently. "Do I have to make dinner tonight?"

For a moment, Kevin has no idea what he's talking about. But then it hits him that yes, Connor is, for all intents and purposes, his omega, and that his omega is supposed to make meals for him. They've never had to worry about it before, what with living with the Prices, but now it's just the two of them, alone, in their own little apartment, and they're supposed to act like a _normal_ alpha-omega couple. He groans.

"No, we'll just... just go out for burgers or something."

Connor makes a vaguely nauseated face, and Kevin groans again. "No on the red meat?" Luckily cravings haven't really been a problem yet, but the redhead does practically inhale some foods while only picking at others.

"No, no, it's fine," he replies, pushing off the wall and slipping on his shoes. "Come on; it's still light out, and we can walk."

Kevin stays put, frowning as he thinks. He's really, _really_ craving a nice burger and fries, but Connor _has_ been pretty great about the whole moving thing. It's not like moving is the most fun activity, even for a non-pregnant person. And while he's not the most observant of guys, he's seen Connor take little breaks between carrying boxes to take deep breaths or run to the bathroom; he's watched him adjust his loads away from his chest awkwardly, and make himself keep going even when he's turning green or white.

So Kevin jumps up, just as his new roommate starts to ask if he's okay, and says "No, you deserve a treat. You pick, anywhere in town. I'll pay." He's half expecting Connor to look down on him (figuratively) and say something like 'I would hope so', but when he looks back, holding the door open behind him, Connor's just standing there, mouth hanging open and eyes welling with tears.

"Oh, no. Connor, what's wrong?" He tries not to snap, but he's tired and he's trying to be nice and he just hopes he didn't offend him or something because the day's been long enough already.

The redhead's chin quivers as he sniffs, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry," he says. "It's the... the hormones, I guess."

"...right."

"No, please don't... I mean, I'm not... It's just, it's such a sweet thing to do. I... th-thanks, Kevin."

_Oh. He just... likes it?_

Kevin smiles, softer than normal, and holds out his hand. "You're welcome," he says. "Now, come on, let's get out of here."

*****

And dinner that night goes well. They laugh, and talk, and it's all pretty nice.

But then they have to go back to living in their apartment, sleeping in separate bedrooms and living separate lives. Kevin complains when Connor has to run to the bathroom and throw up in the middle of the night, and Connor firmly ignores what _he_ wants when they go grocery shopping. He demands that they go together to the obstetrician's office, and Kevin protests by staying in the waiting room for the whole thing.

They only have one car; it's a gift from Kevin's extended family. Connor doesn't even have his driver's license, but he still moans about how trapped he feels when Kevin drives around without him.

"It's not my fault I have to have a job!" he responds, but Connor just sighs in irritation. Kevin does have a job, now, and so he's technically the provider for the family.

He only has the job because of his dad, he knows, but a high-level paid apprenticeship to his dad's direct superior in one of Provo's leading legal companies is nothing to sneeze at. If only he had someone to boast to about it.

Connor's not impressed by anything he does anymore, just laying around the apartment apathetically and never doing anything except 'turning it off', and all of the kids Kevin knew from his ward or the homeschool co-op are still in camp, so he's stuck having a great job and no way to brag about it.

It isn't that bad, though; Kevin actually thinks that being a lawyer is what he was made to be. Even through the mundane paperwork and the complex legal code and having to basically learn a new language from scratch, there's something in it that just _fascinates_ him. It keeps him going, even when Connor won't even speak to him for some reason or another.

It's a rough time, those two and a half-ish months, but Kevin quickly learns that nobody wants to hear him complain, so he sucks it up and prays instead, even on days when Connor flat out _refuses_ to leave his bed (but that's only happened twice) and he has to do everything on his own.

*********

But the awkward time of waiting ends abruptly, and Kevin's only got his boredom to thank. He's sitting, shoulders straight and posture perfect, in the waiting room of Connor's doctor's office, when a scientific journal on the side table catches his eye. It's a new edition, but still completely uninteresting, except for the title, typed in thick black letters across the cover. **Innovations in Gender** , it reads; **The Science of the Future**. And Kevin, being the ever-interested learner he is, picks it up. He skims through it, the uniform font and colorless pages reminding him too much of work for him to be engaged, until the word 'pregnancy' catches his eye. "First Transgender Alpha/Omega Male Pregnancy" is the full name of the article, and he only has a moment to idly think _Wow, that sounds a lot like the situation Connor and I are in_ , before he realizes: _This sounds exactly like the situation Connor and I are in._ Of course, it could be something completely unrelated, and it's just that living in a confined space with someone like Connor and not talking his problems out with any friends or mentors is getting to him, finally. But still, he reads on, fingers tightening and crumpling the edges of the journal.

It's a preliminary study, with a subject field of two: a beta-to-alpha male and an omega male, both age nineteen (19). The study is ongoing, with stage one (transition and conception) happening at the Center for Secondary Gender Development in Denver, Colorado, and stage two (pregnancy) occurring in Provo, Utah. The third stage (birth and examination) will occur at the Center for Secondary Gender Development in Salt Lake City. The baby will be surrendered to the scientists conducting the experiment and examined thoroughly (internally and externally) to determine theoretical viability. The purpose of this study is not to raise the child to adulthood, but a future study is planned to see if this can be done.

There were no modifications to the omega, except basic fertility supplementary hormone implants (common for couples wanting children); the beta to alpha male was implanted with synthetic extra testosterone glands in the testicular glands, with a prosthetic knot constructed out of stem cells and grafted skin added as well. The patient was injected with high levels of testosterone to cause the body to accept the changes and to trigger his rut and the conception.

As of the publish date of the journal, the pregnancy had progressed into the second trimester with no foreseeable complications.

The article was written by a Dr. Carolyn Whitaker.

"Kevin!"

He jumps, gripping the arms of his chair, and looks up to see Connor standing there, hands on his hips.

"I said your name three times, Kevin," he says, frowning. "It's time to go."

Kevin mumbles something he doesn't even understand in reply, standing on shaking legs. He clutches at the journal in his hands, looking around to see if anyone will notice if he takes it, and the receptionist sends him a look.

"Found something you like?" she asks. "You can keep it, if you want."

He sends her a grateful smile and runs after Connor, almost smacking into the door in his hurry. But when he gets in the car, Connor is turned away, looking out the window, and doesn't even offer to give him an update the way he usually does after appointments. Kevin ignores him in favor of checking his appearance in the mirror; he winces at how pale he is, and Connor huffs.

"Really, Kevin?" he asks. "Let's just go already."

"Right, of course."

Still, he hesitates before shoving the journal into his work bag.

They're halfway back to the house by the time Connor asks coldly "What were you reading?"

Lost in frantic thoughts, Kevin almost jumps again. "I'm sorry?"

"What was that you were reading?" The redhead repeats, turning to face him. "What was so important that you didn't hear me call you and that would make you forget to ask how my appointment went? It was fine, by the way, not that you care."

If he hadn't been so distracted, he would have taken the bait, and it would have led to another fight, he's sure, but his hands just tighten, his knuckles going white on the steering wheel. "Um... it was nothing."

Connor simply lifts an eyebrow. "Really."

"Uh... yeah, no, it was just this, this little thing. An article."

"Oh, so it's something now?"

"An article about parenting, actually."

Connor's face goes blank. "... you read a parenting article?"

"Yeah, uh, yes, I did. There's all sorts of things you can't give babies, did you know?"

But his roommate doesn't answer, and the two fall into an uneasy silence for the rest of the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave kudos/comment, or shoot me a message!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kevin comes to a realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for minor body horror in this chapter, just before the ***** break.

Kevin doesn't panic, really. He doesn't as a general rule, but even though this stupid little article turned his world upside down (and that's the third time this year; _honestly_ ) he isn't panicking; he just isn't a panicking person.

So, because he definitely _isn't_ panicking, and he is responsible and mature and smart, he researches. He doesn't work at a legal office for nothing. On his weekday off he's up until eleven at night checking the language of the article and comparing it to that of his legal dictionary. It's a little different, simply because it's science versus law, but the technicalities are still there, and the words are just as stomach-turning in normal speech. Does he ever wish he had gotten a copy of the contract he signed. Well... technically, they didn't do anything to him he didn't specifically consent to. It's Connor's deal they reneged upon. Every time it crosses his mind that this whole situation they're in was on purpose, a wave of nausea and panic hits him like a brick wall, so instead of dwelling on _that_ he devotes his time to figuring out exactly what's going to happen in four and a half months. Apparently the scientists are going to take he and Connor to Salt Lake City ( _are they going to kidnap us or what?_ ) for the baby to be born, but it looks like as soon as that happens, they’re free to go.

Huh.

That would solve the problem of what to do with the darn thing after Connor delivers it. Kevin sits back, running one hand through his hair. Maybe this is all for the better. After all, it looks like this child is the result of some scientific shenanigans, things that are in Heavenly Father’s province and really shouldn’t be messed with. Well, that would just about take care of things, wouldn’t it? And Kevin could just give Connor half of the money in the wallet, wish him good luck, and send him on his way, because five thousand dollars is nothing to sneeze at and would give him a fresh start. There! Everything’s working out.

 _Why was I so worried in the first place?_ he asks himself, smiling. He stands up, rolling his shoulders with a relieved sigh, and stops. Something isn’t right. He's missed something. Frozen in place, his eyes fall on the crumpled journal again, reluctantly scanning it for what’s bothering him. _I thought I found everything,_ he thinks, yawning. _I just want to go to bed._

But then, oh! There it is. It’s about what they’re going to do with the baby.

 _How exactly does one internally examine an infant? And what is ‘theoretical viability’?_ Yawning again, he opens up his laptop and goes to Bing, typing in ‘internal examination’ with exhaustion-clumsy fingers. Most of the links he sees have to do with various doctors shoving their hands up into the private parts of different pregnant people (and he can’t help but notice that all of them are about girls) but then he sees the images.

It’s like having a bucket of ice water dumped on him. There’s pictures of guts, there, and exposed rib cages, and skinned bodies and intestines sliced in half and a heart still attached but pulled out of its cavity. He claps one hand over his mouth quickly, eyes wide with horror. As soon as he can bring himself to move both hands to the keyboard again, he searches ‘theoretical viability’ and finds “Viability: capable of normal growth and development,” and suddenly the line from the article, “the purpose… is not to raise the child to adulthood,” settles in his gut like a block of ice.

 _They want to kill the baby. They want to kill_ my _baby._

*****

 _I can’t tell Connor._ Kevin's hands knead the sheets at his sides, desperate for something grounding. He’s been praying in bed for the last hour, but it didn’t bring him an ounce of clarity. It’s past midnight, now, but his protective instincts are roaring in his chest and the horror isn’t going away at all. He’s supposed to be the _alpha_ , he’s supposed to be _prepared_ ; he’s supposed to take charge and lead his family according to Heavenly Father’s will, but Heavenly Father isn’t replying (or maybe Kevin just can’t hear Him past the fear) and he doesn’t know what to do. And what about that ‘future studies’ bit? What if they try to do this again? He isn’t as scared for himself; it doesn't look like they want anything to do with him, but Connor… what if they make him do this a second time? He knows Connor hates being pregnant; he hates going to church and having people stare at his stomach, and he hates that he’s so dependent on Kevin, he’s said so a million times. It would just be cruel for them to put him through the whole thing again, but if he signed a contract that says they can, then there isn’t much he can do. He almost curses; if only he and Connor had read their contracts, this wouldn’t have happened. He’d still be a beta, but now he sees that there are worse things. And they’re just kids, both of them, hardly above the age of consent. Dr. Whitaker must have known that, pushing them into a deal they couldn’t fully understand but are still going to be held responsible for.

His mind spins through the same arguments, the same ideas, over and over, but he can’t find any good ways out for the both of them. After the original shock, he had realized that Connor wouldn’t have been in this situation at all if he himself hadn’t been involved. The understanding brought a surprising amount of guilt, and he decided then that whatever happens, he’s not going to leave Connor to deal with it alone. He’s going to do his darndest to get them both out.

_But how?_

As far as he can see, in the eyes of the law, Kevin Price is and always has been an alpha. He has an alpha’s rights, and legally, alphas can get themselves out of contractual obligations as long as they don’t cause grave damage to the other party. Essentially, the minute he says the word, he’s home free. But he’s not the one carrying the baby; he’s technically not in any danger. Connor, though, never got any extra rights. As an unmarried, pregnant, male omega, he can hardly even sign contracts for himself. And, because his parents kicked him out and he's unmated, he has no legal guardian.

_It's not fair!_

If only the McKinleys had been merciful and not kicked out their eldest son.

_Who treats family that way, anyway? My dad would never have done that to me._

He ignores the thought that there was a reason he tried not to tell them what happened at the Center.

 _Maybe I could get Mom and Dad to adopt him? No, he's too old; he can't have legal parents anymore._ He groans in frustration, clenching his hands into fists. _How am I going to get us out of this? If only I... wait._

 _If Connor had a mate, that would resolve all of this. His alpha could get him out of the contract, and he'd be an honest man again. And..._ I _am his alpha._

"Oh my gosh."

Kevin doesn't get much sleep that night.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things do not go according to plan.

He's buzzing with energy by the time Connor comes down for breakfast, surprising him with a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and blueberry muffins. Connor is suspicious, almost glaring at him as he pours them both some orange juice, but Kevin can't stop grinning.

 _This is the perfect plan_ , he thinks; _and all we have to do is_... it. _Again. But that's okay! When we bond, it will make everything better, and doing it won't be wrong at all. And we won't have to fight anymore, either. I'm getting really tired of that._

So he sits down across the tiny kitchen table from Connor, ignoring his own plate of food.

"You're in a good mood this morning," Connor comments, sipping at his juice. "Anything good happen at work?"

Kevin blinks. "Um... no. But thank you for asking." This isn't exactly how he thought this would go. "How was the appointment yesterday? I don't think you told me." They could make polite conversation leading up to his announcement; that could work.

Connor has the one-eyebrow-lift down pat. "I told you yesterday it was fine."

 _Oh. He did, didn't he._ "Yes, well, fine isn't exactly descriptive, so I was just wondering if you wanted to elaborate."

"... next time I get to learn the gender."

"Oh?" Kevin sits back in his chair, thrown. He completely forgot that _that_ would happen any time soon.

"Yes." An awkward silence falls.

"Um... can I come?"

Connor looks up from his eggs. "To the appointment?"

"Yes, the appointment. I mean, it's my... it's our baby. It was a joint effort." The words feel strange coming out of his mouth.

Connor puts his fork down at that, facing Kevin fully. "You haven't come to a single appointment so far. Since when have milestones meant anything to you?"

 _Since I found the journal,_ he thinks. "I'm sorry that I haven't really been there," he says. Connor mumbles something that Kevin would rather not try to decipher. "But I really want to be there for that."

Connor doesn't reply for a moment, just staring across the table at Kevin. Suddenly he slams his hands down and says "What on earth has gotten into you, Kevin? First you read a _parenting_ article, then you made me breakfast and now you want to be involved in this whole thing? What happened? Are your parents cutting you off?"

Kevin fumbles, almost knocking his own glass off the table. "No, they're not cutting me off. I just... I wanted to do something nice for you. Is it really that strange?"

"Yes!" Connor cries, standing quickly. With a huff, he goes to the kitchen and grabs a cup, half-turning to face Kevin as he pours himself some water. "Ever since I moved in you've been acting like a child, Kevin. But now all of a sudden you're acting like we're... like you're a parent! You haven't said anything at all about wanting to keep the baby, so unless that's what this whole thing is about, you can't blame me for being suspicious. What are you playing at?" He sets his hands on widening hips, facing Kevin down with a fierce glare.

 _This is not the reaction I expected_. "Well, um... I'm not playing at anything, really, I just thought that... since we are going to be parents, that we could... get to know each other more."

The redhead's eyes narrow. "The baby is going up for adoption, Kevin; we agreed on that."

"I know, I know, and we can do that, there's just... I mean, in the meantime, do you really want to be at each other's throats all the time?"

"I don't understand what you're trying to do, Kevin. Are you suddenly trying to be nice to... to make us friends again?"

Kevin tries very hard not to squirm. "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of something a little closer. We _are_ living together, after all, and it doesn't seem too great of a stretch, don't you agree?"

There are quite a few expressions that pass over Connor's face at that, changing too quickly for Kevin to recognize them all; but he knows, sure as he's sitting here, that at one point Connor looked _happy._

 _That has to count for something, right?_ he asks himself, but just that little glimpse solidified his determination to go through with his plan.

"See, we still have a few more months together, and I don't want you to be unhappy," he says, and Connor's eyes grow wide with something unmistakably hopeful. Kevin takes it as a good sign, plowing forward. "And... well, it _is_ because of me we're stuck like this."

The moment the words pass his lips he knows they were wrong, somehow. Connor's scowling again as he comes to sit back at the table, shoving his chair back and setting his glass down so hard half the water splashes out.

Coldly, evenly, and bitingly sharp, he says "Who are you, and what have you done with Kevin Price."

"What? Connor, I don't..."

The other boy interrupts him without even blinking. "You _never_ apologize," he snaps. "You _never_ admit fault, and you _never_ want to spend time with me. I'm sorry for what happened at the Center, and I'm sorry that I don't fit into your picture perfect future, but that's no reason for you to do this."

His words are paralyzing.

"Wait, wait a minute; you _knew_?" _That's what that has to mean, right?_

Kevin doesn't even bother trying to hide how fazed he is. If Connor knew the whole time... he must have done all this on purpose! His parents never kicked him out; he _lied_ to Kevin about the whole thing!

_He lied to me!_

"I can't believe this!" he shouts, bracing his hands against the table, but before he stands, ready to storm out and never, _ever_ talk to Connor again, he hears, "Know what, Kevin?"

He stops. "About the study," he says, quieter.

Connor frowns. "What study?"

"The..." _The_ study, _the one that's ruining both our lives; the one I'm trying to save you from; the one that wants to kill our baby._ The sting of betrayal still burns, and Kevin's hands are firmly clenched against the edge of the table, but the confusion on Connor's face seems genuine, and, really, unless he's one heck of an actor, could he really have faked all of that? They've been living together for months now; was all of the "turn it off" stuff he pulls just a sham? No; no, it couldn't be. And what could he possibly stand to gain from all this? Money? No matter how much they're giving him, it couldn't be enough to make this worth it. Could it? "... nothing. It's nothing."

"No, Kevin, it's obviously something. What's wrong?" He sounds concerned, not angry, but Kevin's not sure he can do this right now. _What on earth is happening?_

"It's not a big deal, Connor. Just drop it."

"I will not 'just drop it'," the redhead retorts, crossing his arms above the slightly rounded curve of his stomach. "What study are you talking about?"

Kevin stands, scooping up all the dishes from the table and dropping them in the sink; he's not hungry at all, now. "I said it's nothing, Connor," he grits out, moments away from yelling.

"It's big enough of a deal that you yelled at me," Connor replies, turning in his chair to follow him. "It's big enough of a deal that you got all offended when you thought I knew about it. _What is it?_ "

Kevin cries out in frustration. "It's the study! The reason we're in this whole mess! It wasn't about gender; it never was, okay?" He whirls on Connor, pointing at his stomach with a shaking hand. "They did that on purpose!"

In the echoing silence that follows, Connor's hand curls protectively across his stomach, and Kevin can't bear to look at him any longer. "I found an article, when you were at the doctor's yesterday," he says, "and, um... it said that we... that what we thought we were signing up for isn't really what we signed up for."

"So that's why," Connor mutters. "That's why you were acting so strange."

Kevin nods. "It... well. It, the whole thing, really, it was all to see if... um. Why don't I just go get it for you?"

After a moment, Connor nods, and Kevin goes to get the article. He still can't look at Connor when he hands over the crumpled pages, so he washes the breakfast dishes instead, taking his time until he's just stuck washing his hands for the fourth time. When he finally turns back around, Connor is staring blankly across the table, the article abandoned in front of him.

"Connor?" Kevin ventures, taking a step towards him.

The boy's head snaps up, the ghost of a reflexive smile on his face, but it falls the moment his eyes meet Kevin's.

"This was all about you, in the end, wasn't it," he says. "It was about what you could do."

Kevin doesn't really know how to respond to that.

"It was never about me," Connor continues, bitterness lacing his tone as he looks down at the journal again. "I was never meant to get anything out of this." He laughs, pushing the papers away and leaning back in his chair. "I'm the baby-maker here. That's all I'm good for, I guess. Well, then."

His words are wrong, painfully wrong, but before Kevin can even say his name Connor's standing and turning to go. "Wait." He pauses at the doorless arch that leads to their cramped living room. "What does this have to do with what you're little plan? Why do you want us to be _together_?" He spits out the word as if it's poisonous.

"There's, uh, I don't know if you saw it, but down, near the end, there's a line about what they're going to do to the baby." Kevin goes and picks up the journal, skimming until he finds it. "'the purpose… is not to raise the child to adulthood,'" he reads. "They want to dissect it." When he looks up, Connor's face has lost all its color. "And, if it's just you, then they can do that. Whatever contract you signed, you can't break it by yourself. But if we bond, if we're a mated pair, then I can break it for you. Not only will they not be able to take the baby away, but they can't make you do anything I don't approve."

"But what about you?" Connor asks, his voice quiet but not soft. "Didn't you sign a contract too?"

"Well, yes," Kevin explains, gesturing with the papers, "but I signed them as a beta. If we bond, then I'll be the alpha head of household. That's basically the highest power I can have, and not even a legally signed contract can stand against what I see is best for my family." Mentally he congratulates himself for not stumbling over _that_ word.

"You'll have complete power over me," Connor says, setting his jaw and meeting Kevin's eyes. "They won't be able to take anything from me, but only because that'll be your job, is that it?"

"Yes," Kevin replies promptly. "But, no, not exactly. I wouldn't make you do anything. It's just a formal-"

"Is it?" Connor asks, walking around the table and coming right up in front of Kevin. "You'll never hold that over my head? You'll never keep me from doing anything I want to do? Well, how about now? You don't even have any power like that over me now and I still can't do anything you don't approve. I don't have a thing of my own, and you have a job, a car, money, a phone. But no, you won't hold your power over me. You're too good for that, Mr. Perfect-Mormon Kevin Price."

"Hey now, wait just a-" Kevin objects.

"What last name would the baby have, if we kept it?" Connor asks.

"Price," Kevin answers, a little confused. _Why does that matter?_

Connor nods sharply. "And you really think you wouldn't hold your authority over me." He turns to go, again, and Kevin grabs his wrist, pulling him back.

"Look, I don't know why you're so convinced I'm the bad guy here," he says, "but I'm trying to help!"

"I don't want your help," Connor snaps, tugging at Kevin's grip. He doesn't let go, though; _I'm not letting go until this works out._

"Oh, yeah?" he replies, pulling the smaller boy even closer. "You want those scientists to take our baby away? You want them to do experiments on it? Do you want them to cut it open and look at all its baby guts, for science?"

"Of course not!" Connor yells."But you don't know that's going to happen."

"Yes, I do!" Kevin replies. "And even if I don't, this is the only way to make sure that _doesn't_ happen!"

"How do you know?"

"I'm a lawyer, Connor!"

"Not yet, you're not."

"Well, I'm more of one than you are!"

"I'm the baby's parent, Kevin; I hardly think they'll take it away without my permission, even if I'm just some lowly omega."

"How do _you_ know? Do you have your contract?"

Connor blinks, swallows, shakes his head.

"That's what I thought."

"Why do you care so much, anyway?" he asks, stepping back as far as Kevin's tightening grasp will allow.

"This isn't about me, or what I want."

He laughs. "Oh, really? Isn't everything?"

Kevin throws up his free hand in frustration. "This is my fault, Connor!"

"So it really is about you? Why didn't you say so?"

"I'm trying to make things right! I'm trying to help!"

"I already said I don't want your help, Kevin!"

"Why not? Why is it that awful for me to help you?"

"I just... I don't need it, especially not from you!"

"Yes, you do! What part of 'future studies' do you not understand?"

"There's nothing in there about it being me in those studies."

"How many people do you think they're going to try to sucker in? They don't know we know; why would they try to find anyone else?"

For the second time, Kevin catches Connor speechless. He forges ahead, desperately trying to convince him that he's _right_ , goshdarn it, and this is too serious to just ignore or whatever Connor's trying to do. "They could just keep using you, making you take part in these studies, over and over and over again, and you'd never be able to do anything about it! I can make sure that doesn't happen, Connor! I can save the baby, and I can save you!"

"Maybe I don't want to be saved!" Connor shouts back, finally pulling away from Kevin. He falls back against the table, desperately holding himself up with one hand, and Kevin's outstretched arm falls to his side.

"But I'd..." _Doesn't he understand? His life is in danger._ "I can save your life!"

Connor bites his lip, hesitating, then, slowly, he looks up at Kevin. "Maybe I don't want it to be saved."

All the air leaves Kevin's lungs, and he wants to grab at the counter behind him for support or reach out for Connor or really just move at all but he _can't_ , he's frozen, because Connor just said _that_ and what is he supposed to do?

"You don't... what?"

He half hopes that Connor will laugh, will say 'Gotcha,' will let him work out his plan and let him make things okay again, but as Connor straightens up, brushing with forced calmness at his shirt, he realizes that Connor meant it, meant it completely.  

"You're not an idiot, Kevin. Figure it out."

 ****  



	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kevin gets some sense knocked into him by our favorite canon couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to sachlockk-the-sachlockk and thedemonshavethepolicebox for their wonderful comments.

They don't talk to each other very much for the next few days. Connor doesn't get up until Kevin has to leave for work, and he's barricaded in his room by the time he comes back. Kevin starts picking up extra projects, and staying later whenever he can. After three days of coming home to cold dinners that he ignores until the next morning, Connor stops making them. Kevin wishes he could say that he's not disappointed.

His pride won't let him try to speak to Connor for a week, though, and even then he just leaves a note outside his door asking if he'd like to go out to dinner with Kevin and some of the other apprentices from the office. The note is returned with a simple 'No, thank you' written on the back, so Kevin makes himself stay out as late as he can in return. _I don't need him,_ he thinks as he laughs gayly at his coworkers' bad puns. _I don't want him, and he doesn't want me._

It's not very comforting.

But when he returns, the clock inching towards two in the morning, he sees light coming from Connor's bedroom window. _Why is he still up this late? What-_ By the time he's parked and run up the stairs, everything is dark again, but he still goes straight to the other boy's room and knocks, asking "Connor? Are you all right? Is everything okay?"

There's no response, and, confused, Kevin turns to go, until it suddenly strikes him that maybe Connor was waiting up for him. He smiles; _maybe Connor does..._ and softly says "Goodnight, Connor," before going to his own bed.

It doesn't help, and Connor doesn't come out when he invites him to church, but every so often Kevin finds himself smiling when he thinks about it, for whatever reason.

*****

He's certainly not smiling now, though, as he pushes his way through the crowd in the far-too-small Chick-fil-a, trying to find an empty table. He was supposed to meet an apprentice from another law firm, to get his opinion on a nasty little case Kevin's dad is working on, but at the last minute the guy called out, saying he just couldn't make it and maybe they could reschedule? Frustrated and cold in spite of his suit jacket, Kevin decided to stay and eat alone, forgetting just how many people were in the restaurant until it was too late.

Just as he reaches the farthest corner, _still_ not finding an empty table, a piercing voice calls out "Kevin!" and he whips around to see a frantically waving Arnold Cunningham, sitting at a four-top table with an absolute goddess of a woman who couldn't look more out of place if she tried. "Hey, Kevin!"

"Hi!" he replies, smiling in spite of himself.

As he lifts his table marker in a gesture of greeting, Arnold yells "Come sit with us!"

_Who am I to pass that up?_

Arnold beams as he approaches, hugging him warmly before he can even pull out a chair. "Almost-best friend," he says, "it's so good to see you! I never thought I'd see you again and I was just wondering, wow, I wonder what happened to Kevin, and then I look up and there you are! In a suit, too! You look nice, by the way; is that for your job? Do you have a job? Maybe you're just dressed up for fun. That's cool, too!" He giggles warmly before finally releasing Kevin, grinning up at him like a puppy or an overly affectionate child. "Oh! I completely forgot. Kevin, this is Naba." He turns his grin on the slim woman across the table, and she smiles and waves in return. "We're married; can you believe it?"

 _Wow, married? Honestly, no,_ Kevin thinks, but he quickly sets his table marker down to shake her hand. "Naba?" he repeats, turning on a blindingly bright grin. "It's lovely to meet you."

She nods, shaking his hand with a painfully strong grip. "And you're Kevin," she says. "I've heard so much about you."

Kevin sends Arnold a politely confused look. _We only met for five minutes, if that._  But Arnold pats his shoulder and says "All good things, all good things, buddy," so he just smiles and straightens his jacket instead of responding.

"So, what happened with you?" Arnold asks. "You stormed out and then nobody ever heard from you after that. Did you get out of camp somehow?"

Kevin chuckles bitterly, earning surprised glances from his tablemates. "Something like that," he says, and he tells them the whole story of his trip to Denver, of meeting Connor, of the heat (and he even tells them some of the details, fervently looking around to make sure there aren't any children within hearing distance), of his research and getting that call, so many months ago, and how he's living with Connor now but how they aren't talking and they need to get a relationship of some kind going on or else Connor will be in danger, and by the time he's finished Arnold's eyes are wide as dinner plates, Naba looks close to crying, and his fries are stone cold. "Man, that's really rough," Arnold says, slumping back into his chair. "Poor Connor."

Kevin bites back a _what about me?_ but Arnold must be able to tell because he immediately wraps one arm around Kevin's shoulders comfortingly. "And poor you! That's just not fair, not fair at all."

Naba shakes her head sympathetically, curls bouncing, and picks up everyone's cups. "I'm going to go get refills," she says, sending Kevin a pitying smile, "but I'll be right back. It'll give you boys a chance to talk, anyway." As she stands, Arnold jumps up, reaching out to take them from her, but she sweetly says "I've got it, Arnold," and glides away to the front counter. It's then that Kevin notices she's got the smallest bit of a baby bump. He turns to Arnold, incredulous, but the boy is watching her go with a lovesick grin on his round, freckled face. "Isn't she beautiful?" he says, resting his chin in his hand. "I know you've got problems, Kev, but she's... she's like a _latte_."

Kevin snorts; with her bountiful, cream-dyed curls and her dark brown skin, she does look kind of like a latte topped with foam, but he asks "Should you really call your wife that?" because _really_ , that seems a little inappropriate.

Arnold just laughs and says "Oh yeah, it's fine. We call each other weird stuff all the time. She called me a hobbit once, actually, so it's all good."

"...oh," Kevin replies. _What am I supposed to say to that sort of thing, honestly?_

"I bet you're wondering how we met," Arnold says, smirking a bit. When Kevin starts to shake his head, he just says, "You're probably thinking, 'how on earth did a guy like you end up with a girl like her?'"

He starts to protest, but he stops, not wanting to lie, and Arnold nods.

"Well, I'll tell you, because it's a really cool story and it kind of leads to what I want to say to you, anyway. So, we're both at camp, right, along with every other kid in Provo, and I was sort of getting upset because I lost my roommate and best friend, that's you, and I didn't know what to do, and I wasn't really expecting to find anyone at camp, and they got me a new roommate but she found an omega right off and surprise! she was an alpha, so I was alone for a while, and that really, really sucked and I thought about trying to escape until the first mingling session. They gathered us all up in one big room, and I was really nervous, because when I walked in there were already tons of couples and nobody even looked at me, but then, all the way across the room, I saw Naba. I stopped, right in the middle of the doorway, and people got so mad at me, but I couldn't move because she was looking at me and she just... it was weird, but I could tell she was thinking what I was thinking, and I was just thinking how absolutely perfect she was, except she was thinking it about me, and then she came up and took my hand and said "Hi," and I sort of laughed and she laughed too and then she kissed me and... yeah, that's about it. But my point is is that the moment we saw each other, we knew that it was just each other, y'know? It was a love at first sight sort of thing. And maybe that's not what you've got with Connor, but if there's something, you'll know." Naba comes back then, balancing the three full cups perfectly, and when she drops off Arnold's she kisses him sweetly on the cheek before sitting down again.

"My husband is right," she says, grinning excitedly as Arnold blushes. "And another thing: Baba, my father, he always said that love isn't about being perfect for the other person, it's about wanting to be, because they deserve it. I want to dress up and look nice for Arnold, because it makes us both happy. Arnold likes to cook, because it's something he can give me that makes me happy. We trade, you see?" She reaches out, taking one of Arnold's hands and one of Kevin's. "It's easy to be around him and to do things for him because I love him," she says earnestly. "If it's hard, then it's not love."

They talk for a while about more casual things, completely ignoring the time until the Chick-fil-a workers start giving them weird looks. That one sentence sticks in Kevin's head, though, through getting both Naba's and Arnold's numbers and an invitation to dinner, through an affectionate three-way hug and warm farewells said at least three times in the middle of continuing conversations, and through his drive back to the office and his dad's chiding about how incredibly late he is. _If it's hard, it's not love._

It's half an hour 'til five before he realizes that he never told his friends that he doesn't have feelings for Connor.

They assumed he wants to pursue a relationship with Connor because he _loves_ him. He laughs out loud, brushing off the weird looks the other apprentices give him, because why would he love _Connor_? They're both boys, for goodness' sake, and Heavenly Father has a plan for Kevin, one that has a pretty, obedient, Mormon omega girl in it somewhere. And yes, bonds _are_ pretty permanent, but not always, and it's more of a last resort in this case, anyway.

But... why would Kevin want a relationship, too? He could always just force Connor into the bond for his own good; he doesn't really need any feelings to be there for that to happen. The thought makes him cringe, though. Kevin's a good person, and he wouldn't want to force Connor into anything without his consent. But, still, a bond can happen without romantic feelings. Just because it normally isn't _done_ doesn't mean it doesn't happen. So why did he ask for a relationship?

_If it's hard, it's not love._

Living with Connor is hard, that's for sure. It's hard not talking to him, it's hard fighting with him, and it's hard knowing that they used to get along, that there used to be _something_ other than anger there, when they first met. But, then, it was easy. It wasn't torture being stuck in a room with him for over a week. Being with him was fun, and easy, and _nice_. Why can't it be like that now?

 _I want that,_ he realizes, dropping his pen in shock. _I want us to be easy together. I want an 'us'._

It's not love; no, it's too complicated and angry and ugly right now. It's not a crush, either, because he's not looking at Connor with rose-tinted glasses. There's nothing about Connor that he thinks is perfect. But he doesn't want him to want to die. He likes him; he likes his determination, and he likes his honesty, and he likes his blue eyes and he likes the way Connor neatens and straightens up every room he goes into by habit. He _likes_ Connor, and it's in _that_ way.

_Well._


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kevin and Connor go shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters, so I hope you really enjoy it!

It's not until the weekend that Kevin can put his plan into practice, but first thing Saturday morning he's at Connor's bedroom door, knocking firmly and calling his apartment-mate's name. "Connor!" he says, "I'm sorry, and I want to take you out to breakfast to apologize."

There's no answer.

"Connor..." Kevin groans, leaning against the doorframe. "Please? I'm trying to do something nice here."

Still nothing.

"Honestly, it's going to be a long four months if y-" The door behind him opens and he turns to see Connor, frozen mid-step, coming out of the bathroom.

"Good morning, Kevin," he says mildly, drying his hands on his pants. "Was there something you were trying to say to me?"

Kevin is definitely not blushing when he replies "Oh. Um, yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I wanted to apologize for what I did, and what I said, and I want to take you out for breakfast this morning, if you'd like."

Connor blinks. "What did you do?"

"What? You don't remember?"

He can see Connor fight against and lose to the urge to roll his eyes. "Of course I remember; I want to see if you know what you're apologizing for."

Kevin frowns, crossing his arms. "Why would I say I'm sorry if I didn't know what for?"

Connor's mouth twists wryly. "If you just wanted to appease me, instead of actually doing any good."

"Oh." Kevin drops his arms contritely. "That's... I mean, I wouldn't do that, but I guess that's fair enough for you to, uh, wonder about. But no, I'm sorry for... for lying to you, first off."

Connor nods patronizingly, but Kevin knows he made the right choice appealing to his honesty.

"And... I was a real jerk the other day. I'm sorry for trying to force anything on you. You're a person, too, and you're even older than me, so there was no reason for me to do what I did, and to say what I said."

Conner purses his lips, thinking, then he smiles. "All right," he says. "I don't forgive you, not yet, but that was a decent apology, thank you. And, Kevin, I'm sorry, too."

"...you are?"

"Yes, I am. I'm sorry for snapping at you," he says, slowly, as if Kevin would be incapable of understanding any other way. "I understand that you're putting yourself under a lot of pressure, and I shouldn't have been so defensive. You're trying to do what's best for me, is that right?"

Kevin nods eagerly, taking a few steps towards him. "Exactly! And what you said was..." He trails off, unable to explain how incredibly unsettling the words had been.

But Connor seems to understand, sighing softly. "I know. I shouldn't have said that; it was inappropriate for the situation, and I'm sorry."

Kevin hesitates, then comes closer, looking Connor in the eyes. "Did you mean it, though?"

When the smaller boy glances away, he chuckles and says "Mormons don't lie, Connor. Come on, tell me the truth."

With a hint of a blush spreading across his cheeks, Connor shrugs. "I don't know. It... I... sometimes I... I might have meant it at the time. But it doesn't matter. I shouldn't have said it, I apologized, and that's that." He smiles up at Kevin, then, brightly and warmly. "Breakfast out, you said? That sounds lovely. Just let me go put on something a bit nicer than these." Gesturing to his sweatpants and an old t-shirt of Kevin's, splattered with paint and motor oil from when his dad made him learn how to change the oil of the family van, he slips into his room again.

"Wait... did you steal that from my dresser?"

Connor laughs. "I'll meet you at the car, Kevin."

*****

"So," Connor says, fastening his seatbelt neatly, "what's the plan for today?"

"Plan?" Kevin echoes absentmindedly, craning his neck as they pull out of their undersized driveway.

"Yes, the plan, Kevin," he repeats. "You think I haven't noticed how you plan everything?"

"Oh," Kevin says articulately. "Huh. Do I really?"

Connor just grins, shaking his head, and repeats his question.

"Well, I was thinking breakfast, first, and then we could... I don't know, go to a park or something, and then we're going to go shopping, and then..." he smirks, incredibly proud of himself for the next part, "I have a surprise for you tonight."

One eyebrow raised, Connor says "If it's what I'm thinking, I'm really hoping it's not," but he's still smiling so Kevin decides to think that he's excited and not annoyed. "When you said breakfast you really meant the whole day, didn't you? I guess it's good that I'm wearing walking shoes."

Kevin sends him a weird look, turning right quickly onto the main road off their apartment complex. "Do you have bad walking shoes?"

"I could have worn slippers," Connor comments dryly. "And then you would have to deal with me complaining all day about my aching feet. Luckily for you, I used to be a church leader, and a church leader is always prepared."

 _That definitely would have put a damper on things_ , Kevin thinks, and smiles gratefully over at the other boy. "You're right; thank you for doing that."

Connor pauses, looking over at him curiously. "I'm what now?"

"You're right...?"

"Huh. Okay, then. I guess I am." Connor's a little too surprised for Kevin's taste.

"Look, if this is about that whole perfect Mormon thing you mentioned, I've really been thinking about that."

"Here we go."

"Hey!" Kevin objects, hands tightening on the steering wheel. "All I wanted to say was that you're... you were correct, I guess, and I do tend to think of myself as... _more right_ than I actually am."

Connor seems to be thinking it over, brow furrowed and lips pursed. "Are you actually admitting that I'm right?" he asks.

Even though Kevin can hear the _and you're wrong_ implied, he nods.

"Well." Connor takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a moment before smiling, more genuinely than before. "That's very sweet of you, Kevin. I accept your apology. And, um, if I'm being honest, I have to say that I really appreciate that."

"You're welcome," Kevin replies, pleasantly confused. It's not like Connor's reaction is a _bad_ one, per say, but... it's weird. Meaningful, almost. That's unsettling.

"Um, anyway," he says, passing a too-slow car in front of them, "where do you want to eat?"

Connor blinks. "I get to choose?"

 _Okay, this is getting ridiculous._ "Have I really been that awful? Honestly, have I been that much of a tyrant, that you think you can't even have an opinion about where we eat for breakfast?"

But Connor laughs, and it doesn't sound malicious. "No, I just... I don't know what they have here. I haven't been out much, remember?"

"... fair enough," he says. Swinging a quick right that makes Connor clutch at his seat, he pulls into the pothole-littered parking lot of a rundown little cafe, with a seedy bridal store right next to it.

"Is Justine's okay?" He asks, opening the door. Connor gives him a doubtful look, but he grins and says, "Come on; trust me on this." So Connor sighs, and slowly hauls himself out of the car, reluctantly following Kevin into the restaurant.

*****

"Oh, goodness..." He groans, thirty minutes and a full breakfast platter later. "How much did I just eat?"

Kevin laughs, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. "I told you to trust me."

Justine's had been a Price family tradition, up until when Anna was born and five kids became too many to take out to eat every Sunday; Kevin still has fond memories of the place, stained carpet and moldy ceilings notwithstanding.

"Kevin, honestly, I don't know if I can even move right now."

The brunette laughs, pulling out a couple of bills and waving them to get the waitress' attention. "You're gonna have to," he says, "if you want to do all the cool stuff I've got planned. And, trust me, you're going to want to."

Connor groans again, but it's playful this time, and he's grinning as he stands and waddles out of the restaurant. Kevin doesn't even try not to laugh.

*****

He certainly isn't laughing later, though, after three hours of shopping for maternity (paternity? No; pregnancy) clothes. Connor doesn't seem flagged, but considering how often his mood has changed today, Kevin isn't surprised. He was so angry when they first walked into the Macy's, "Oh em gosh, Kevin, you're going to make me try on clothes right after eating? They'll never fit!", but when Kevin meekly reminded him that he's going to be getting bigger pretty soon and maybe it'll be helpful he calmed down and began to eagerly comb through the small section for omega men. It doesn't take very long, but Connor keeps going through it, trying on as many things as he can, no matter how dubiously he looked at them at first.

He ends up deciding on a few pairs of comfortable stretchy pants and some oversized shirts that to Kevin just look like larger sizes of normal shirts, but when they're in the checkout line, Connor keeps fidgeting, and glancing back as if there's something he's forgotten. Just as they reach the front of the line and the harried cashier reaches out for the clothes he's picked, he shoves them at Kevin and asks "Is it okay if I go get a few more things? Just little things, I promise."

"Sure," Kevin agrees, bemused, and starts handing over the items to the woman behind the counter.

"Thanks," Connor says, looking desperately grateful. "But you can't look at them!"

"What?"

"You have to close your eyes. I don't want you to see."

"Connor, seriously? I'm paying for the stuff!" But Connor glares at him before spinning on his heels and striding away, and the cashier gives him a sympathetic shrug, so he sighs and closes his eyes, feeling supremely silly.

 _Honestly, what on earth could he be buying that he doesn't want me to know about? Is it underwear or something? That's not_ that _embarrassing._

Before he has the chance to ponder any further (or imagine Connor in his underwear) quickly tapping footsteps approach and he feels something or things shoved onto the counter, and he hears the cashier stifle a giggle. He starts to peek, but Connor snaps "Oh no you don't," and slaps a hand over his eyes without any warning.

"What the heck, Connor!" Kevin yelps, but Connor keeps his hand firmly in place until the rustling of plastic shopping bags stops and the total is read off. Connor flinches at the price, but Kevin just rolls his eyes (wait, no, he doesn't; that's a sin) and hands over a shiny new credit card, vowing to avoid going out to eat for a while to make up for it.

"I'm sorry," Connor says, as they walk back to the car. Shoulders hunched against the cold and fumbling with the car keys with fingers fast going numb, Kevin almost doesn't hear him.

"You're sorry?" he echoes, speed-walking to get into the equally cold interior of the car. There's a delay as the two of them slide into their seats, the car is started, and Kevin cranks up the heat to the highest it can go. But then, as they both shiver in their seats ( _how in the world did it get colder since this morning?_ ) Kevin asks "Why are you sorry?"

Connor averts his eyes. "For how expensive that all was."

"That's not really a big deal," Kevin replies, thinking of the ten thousand dollars he still has in his wallet. He's a smart guy, and he's sure by now that it was supposed to be money to keep Connor alive on for the nine months they're together. But he doesn't like thinking about that. "Why do you keep apologizing, anyway? I mean, not so much today, or... well, not in a while, really, but you used to do it a lot."

"Well..." Connor's eyes flick up to his for a second before immediately glancing away, "maybe I apologize a normal amount, and you're so rarely sorry about anything that it's odd to you." He smiles at the end, like it's a joke, but it doesn't have the lighthearted teasing tone of this morning.

"Uh, yeah, I don't think so," Kevin replies, holding out his hands towards the finally warm air from the heaters.

Connor doesn't do the same, burying his hands in his lap instead, and he doesn't reply.

"Have you always done that?" Kevin asks, and the redhead fiddles with the zipper of his jacket.

"No," he admits, finally, as they pull out of the parking lot. "It's a... a relatively new development."

Kevin waits for him to continue, stalled at a turn, but Connor just swallows and keeps his eyes lowered.

"I'll stop doing it, if it bothers you," he murmurs.

"What? No, I didn't say that."

"Then why did you bring it up?"

This time Kevin sees his baiting for what it is, and doesn't even tense up. Okay, well, maybe he does, but only a little, and only because he wants this day to be perfect.

"Because I'm curious. Why'd you start?"

Connor shrugs, looking out the window as if he can see anything past the condensation on the window.

Kevin wants to push it, but Connor's gone from smiling to nervous (or something) in the space of minutes, and, for one, it makes him really uncomfortable, and for another, he'll probably bounce back. _Right?_

So they drive in awkward silence, Kevin opens his mouth to say things and stops himself again about four times, until he has to decide whether to turn or not and it has to happen now.

"Coffee or the park?"

"What?"

"Do you want coffee or a walk?"

"We can't drink coffee."

"Would you rather walk around in the cold?"

"I don't know, Kevin; are those the only two options?"

"Okay! Coffee it is." He swings the wheel left at the last minute, accelerating with a squeal of tires that probably doubles his heart rate.

"Did I have any influence over that decision?" Connor asks coldly as they park in front of a Starbucks.

"You wouldn't give me a straight answer! And it's freezing out; I don't want to go out and walk in the cold, thank-you-very-much."

Connor gets out without answering and without looking back.

_Great._

*****

Once they're settled with their hot chocolates, extra whip for Connor and peppermint for Kevin, Connor seems to perk up a bit.

"Thank you," he says genuinely, not like the sorries from earlier.

"You're welcome," Kevin replies, beaming. He likes it when people thank him.

But then Connor looks away, and they don't really have anything to say to each other, and it's awkward, and it really shouldn't be, it _can't_ be, because this is Kevin's day and it has to be _incredible_.

"So I was thi-" "Aren't you g-"

They both start talking at the same time, and Kevin sort of trails off as Connor ducks his head, cheeks turning red. "Go ahead," Kevin says, sitting back.

"No, you go."

" _Connor_. Just speak."

He hunches at that, like he's being forced to talk, and if he weren't so intrigued Kevin might feel bad.

"...I was just going to ask if you wanted to know what I got at Macy's," he mutters, and Kevin blinks.

"The stuff you wouldn't let me see?"

Connor nods, sipping at his hot chocolate.

"Um... am I supposed to? I mean, I thought the entire point of the closing-my-eyes thing was to not know what you got, but, by all means, tell me all about it."

"No," Connor scoffs, relaxing a little. "You're not supposed to know, but I thought you'd be bugging me about it by now. I wanted to tell you that you're not supposed to be curious about it, or look in the bag, or go through my clothes back at the apartment, so don't even try, okay?"

"Hey, that's not very fair."

"Excuse me?"

"You told me I'm not supposed to be curious about it, and then told me all the things I couldn't do. Now that's all I'm gonna want to do." He pouts a little, playing up the whine in his tone, and he's rewarded with Connor smirking behind his cup.

_That's more like it._

"Okay," he agrees, "I won't go root through your stuff, I promise. But now it's my turn, right?"

"Right."

Kevin grins. "All right, we're going to play a game. My mom taught me this, for getting along and stuff; it's actually pretty useful. It's called the Honesty Game. Each of us says something we hate, and then we say something we like. It doesn't technically _have_ to be about each other, but to work well it kind of has to be. Okay?"

Connor looked skeptical for the first part, but by the time Kevin's fully explained it he almost looks horrified.

"Kevin, no. That's an awful idea."

"No, it's not. It's a great idea."

"No! It really, honestly isn't. I thought you wanted today to go well."

"I do!" _Obviously_. "This will help us sort of get to know each other."

"Kevin, we- we don't exactly, well, _get along_. This sort of thing is good for people who really... who love each other. For families. We're not a family."

Kevin sits back in his chair, grip tightening around his cup. _Is that what he thinks? What has today been, then, if not getting along? And yeah, we're not a family. But..._

"Not yet," he says, meeting Connor's eyes; they grow bigger and bluer (if that's even possible), and he leans forward as if Kevin is offering something priceless. _That's... interesting._

"...I'm sorry?" he says softly, breathlessly, and Kevin ducks his head, unable to deal with how earnest Connor's expression is right now.

"I thought you weren't going to say that anymore."

Connor sits back, cheeks flaming red. "Oh, yes, I... I did, didn't I?"

Kevin takes a sip of his drink instead of saying anything. He doesn't know what to say.

"Well." Connor clears his throat, resting his hands on the table. "Let's... let's give your little game a shot."

"Wait, really?"

"Sure, Kevin. Whatever you want."

_...I'll take what I can get._

"Okay. I'll start, then. And you always start and end with positive things. _Always_. So, first... I like when you... um, when you..."

 _Should I say something about that time he stayed up for me? But what if he didn't? What if he just says I'm too conceited and not everything is about me? Or I could say I like his blush. It is kind of... what, nice? That's mean. Cute? No, that's... that's_ flirtatious _, I can't do that! What's something else I can say? There's too much, and I can't say anything from when we were in the center. That's a mood killer. And if I say anything about moving... that was too long ago to bring up now._

"See, Kevin, this is why this is a bad idea," Connor says, and that's right, he's supposed to be saying something. "You can't even think of anything."

"No! No, no, that's not... it's not that I can't think of anything, it's just... it's hard to choose."

Connor looks unimpressed. "Just say something, Kevin. You said yourself it doesn't matter what it's about."

"But I want it to be about you."

"Then make it about me," Connor snaps, folding his hands in his lap. One hand curves over his belly, and Kevin sits up straight.

"I like the way you do that," he says, and Connor pauses, looking up at him, a frown settling across his brow.

"Do what?"

"The... uh, when you..." He mimics the movement, feeling foolish, and Connor's hand snaps away from his stomach.

"I didn't know that you noticed," he says cooly.

"Well, that's why this game is a good idea!" Kevin retorts. "We can get a chance to know each other."

Connors hums, pursing his lips. "Is it my turn, then?"

Kevin nods.

"I like it when you're on time for dinner."

_Well. That's kind of boring._

"Okay. I don't like... when you... I don't like when you're all... uppity."

"Excuse me?"

"Not uppity. _Patronizing_."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, actually. Why?"

"It's not like you have any room to talk. I hate when you're condescending to me."

"I think we've been over that, thanks. Anyway, I... I guess I like when you cook. Thanks for that."

"It's not like I have a choice. What if I said I liked when you cook more?"

"What do you mean, you don't have a choice? I'm not making you do that!"

"Really, Kevin? Are you going to start making food for yourself, three meals a day?"

"Hey, just because I haven't done it before doesn't mean I can't."

"Oh no, Kevin, don't let me tell you what to do. I'm just an omega; it's my job to make our home comfortable for you."

"Okay, I don't think sarcasm is necessary here."

"I'm so sorry, alpha, does my self-expression bother you? I'll be sure to stop it completely and be a completely subservient _slut_ to your wishes."

"Watch your mouth! And are you going to say your good thing, because I found _exactly_ what I want to say bothers me about you!"

"No, feel free to skip my turn entirely. I'd _love_ to hear what you can't stand about me."

Kevin takes a deep breath. "I hate when you're sarcastic like this," he grits out.

"Well, I can't say I expected that at all, considering just how often it makes you smile," Connor bites back. "Am I allowed to say my negative trait about you, now? Or is it going to be too much for your ego to take?"

"I can take anything you care to dish out, _McKinley_."

"Wow, tough guy. You think you're so strong, don't you? You think you can take me out for a day and then you can do what you want with me? Or, no, that I'll follow whatever you think best? Think again."

Connor picks up his cup to drink, but his hands are shaking too badly to hold it. He clenches his hands in fists instead and looks away, as if bracing himself for a blow.

Kevin is fuming, but he still asks "Are you okay?"

Connor glances up, still cringing. "Wh- No! Honestly, no, I'm not, not in the least!" He pauses, and by now it's like Kevin can see the moment he tells himself to turn it off. "My turn," he says calmly. "I hate the way you pretend to care."

"The way I... _pretend_? Is it so hard to believe that I'm not lying, or that I want what's best for us?"

For a second he thinks he can see Connor's chin quivering, but the other boy's voice is steely when he says "There is no ' _us_ ', Kevin."

"What if I want there to be?"

"You want an 'us'?"

For a moment, Kevin is paralyzed with indecision. He shouldn't say yes; it goes against everything he's ever learned, it goes against the _Church_ , and Connor probably hates him, besides. But he's so _tired_ of fighting, and Mormons don't lie. Mormons don't lie, and he really _does_ want this.

"Yes."

Connor falls back into his chair, covering his face with mouth with one hand. His eyes squeeze shut, but Kevin sees how his shoulders are shaking and now he knows that Connor's crying. His other hand is resting on his belly again.

"Hey," he says softly. The barista is staring, and the old man in the corner is sending them glares, but other than that there's not a soul in the store. "Hey, it's okay." He stands, walks around the table, and he drops to his knees next to Connor's chair. "There's nothing to cry about."

Connor shakes his head, curling in on himself as much as one can in a wooden chair, and Kevin carefully rests one hand on the redhead's thigh.

"I didn't mean to make you cry," he soothes, rubbing gently. "I'm sorry."

Connor shudders, and Kevin flinches back. "If it's... I mean, if it's about the... about 'us', we don't... if it bothers you, I won't bring it up again. I was just thinking it might be for the best, all things considered."

"That's not good enough," Connor murmurs, wiping his eyes. He takes a deep breath, hiccuping halfway through, and looks down at Kevin. "That was... unseemly; I'm sorry."

Kevin gives him a sort of lopsided smile, and he looks away.

"Get off the floor; you're embarrassing yourself."

So Kevin gets up, but he doesn't go back to his chair. He takes Connor's hand, the one on his stomach, and softly he says "I like when you trust me."

Connor gasps, but he doesn't pull away. "Kevin, what-"

"When you actually show what you're feeling. I like that."

Connor pauses, looking up at him blankly. "Why on earth would you like that?"

"Because I like you." The words slip out before he's realized what he's saying. He blushes, and fights to keep his eyes locked with Connor's, but the boy scoffs and his heart falls to his feet.

"You keep saying things like this," the redhead says, pointedly pulling his hand away and taking his cup in his hands. "And, I'm going to be completely honest with you: I don't understand why."

Kevin doesn't move. "Because Mormons don't lie."

Connor gives him that look again, the one that says 'I don't believe you', but his eyes are too red for it to have the same effect. "Of course not, Kevin. But there are ways around _that_ little rule, as I'm sure you know. Anyway, I think it's time for us to have a serious discussion. If you would please sit down?"

Kevin frowns, but goes to sit down again. Connor sighs, sipping away the last of his hot chocolate.

"Do you want me to get you some more?"

Connor blinks and fumbles with his cup, almost dropping it. "Excuse me?"

"Did you want a refill?" Kevin repeats.

"...no, thank you. But this is the sort of thing we need to, to talk about. To be completely frank, I don't know how much longer I can handle this... _behavior_ from you."

"Wh-" Kevin stops, scowling. "Please continue." He has the feeling that if he keeps interrupting Connor this time they'll just end up fighting again, and he's already ready to snap.

"Well, um, I've noticed that you've been especially _considerate_ lately, and you keep implying that you would... you would be comfortable with something, perhaps, beyond friendship between the two of us. It's... well, it's unnerving and I have to say I'm concerned. What exactly, may I ask, prompted these actions from you?"

He sounds clinical, like a doctor asking about the symptoms of the flu or something. But Kevin decides right then and there that he's gonna play along with Connor's little show of not caring, or whatever this is, dang it. And he'll be dead honest about it, too.

"Well, you already know about the article, and that was first."

Connor nods, but he also goes pale; Kevin marks that down in his head as something not to bring up unless he absolutely has to.

"Then, uh, I met some people at lunch the other day, and they sort of inspired me, I guess?"

"Are you asking me a question, Kevin?"

"They inspired me, _Connor_."

"How so?"

"They..." How can he describe what seeing Arnold and Naba was like? "They helped me reconsider my priorities." _And sort out my feelings. Sort of. Not that I really know for sure, but... that's beside the point._

"Hmm." Connor sits back in his chair, and Kevin ventures to say "They invited us over for dinner."

Connor raises one eyebrow artfully. "The two of us?"

 _For the love of Heavenly Father,_ Kevin thinks, _how many times do I have to say this?_

"Yes, the two of us."

"You told them about me?"

"Of course I did!" Kevin snaps, then, calmer, he says "and I told them about the baby, too."

He doesn't miss the way Connor's hands go the sides of his chair, then, like he's going to run out at the slightest noise. He hopes the barista doesn't get butterfingers and drop something.

"Are they part of the Church?"

"Yeah," Kevin says. "I met Arnold at summer camp, before... yeah. He and Naba just got out of camp, and she's expecting, too."

It feels weird to talk like that, like what he and Connor are is anything like Arnold and Naba's loving looks and casual ease. The thought hurts more than he thought it would.

"Well," Connor replies, shoulders relaxing a little. "Maybe we should take them up on that."

Kevin nods. "Yeah, we definitely should. They're really great people."

"But I do have my _reservations_ ," Connor says, folding his hands atop the table. They're still shaking.

"Why? Just because they're _my_ friends?" _Because I said so? Because you fight against everything I say?_

"Because people of the Church don't approve of us, Kevin," Connor retorts. They both realize what Connor's said at the same time; Kevin grins and Connor gasps in horror.

"You don't actually hate the idea, do you?" Kevin asks. "You like it, too!"

"I said nothing of the sort, Kevin Price! You shouldn't leap to conclusions." His tone is sharp, but he's half pale and half red and now that the idea's in Kevin's mind he can't get it out.

"That makes so much sense!" he cries, beaming. It's like everything's snapped into place, and he can look back on the past few weeks with a completely different view. "That's why you're so angry with me all the time!" _That's why he'd be so mad about me 'pretending'. But I'm not pretending!_

Connor laughs, shaky and bitter. "Are you really arrogant enough to think that I l- like you? That I want to be stuck with you for longer than I have to be?”

 _‘There’s plenty of ways around that little rule.’_ Connor’s words echo in his head, and Kevin leans forward, just enough to make Connor lean back in response.

“Tell me, flat out, that you’re disgusted by the very idea of there ever, ever being anything between us. Tell me that you’ve never wanted, or even just considered what a, a _relationship_ between us would be like, and I’ll trust you, and I will never mention it again. But you have to say ‘Kevin, I never have and never will want anything romantic from you,’ in those exact words!”

He’s grinning, the exhilarating feeling of victory, of _being right_ , mixing with pure hope and that twisting in his gut that he hasn’t felt since he thought Connor stayed up for him, and before, when they moved and Connor offered to make dinner for him, and before that, at the center when that wonderful smell was permeating everything, and… and before that, even, when Connor complimented his outfit. _Gosh, how long has this been going on? How long have I felt like this?_

Connor’s gaping at him, his mouth half open and his cheeks flaming red.

“Is that what you’ve been doing this whole time?” Kevin asks, dimming his smile down so it’s not so gloating. “Just telling part of the truth, or avoiding the question? Is that what you meant by getting around the rule?”

The other boy’s mouth works, making the shape of words without any sound, and Kevin has to resist a _mighty_ urge to laugh.

“That’s it, isn’t it?”

He actually waits for Connor’s answer this time; after a long, long time, the other boy looks down and nods.

Kevin grins, sitting back in his chair. “Wow, I can’t believe it took me that long to see it,” he says, and Connor hides his face in his hands.

“Am I that obvious?” he asks, muffled.

Kevin is surprised despite himself. Connor’s _admitting_ that he has feelings for him! Or, at least that he wouldn’t completely reject trying… things.

 _Oh gosh. We could do_ things _. We're supposed to do_ things!  _What sort of things do people in relationships do, other than go on dates and things? We’re already living together; it doesn’t really seem like there’s that much for us to still do. What if it's just sort of what we've been doing? That isn't very easy at all!_

But then Connor snaps his fingers, lips twisted into a sad little smirk. “Hey, only one of us can panic at a time, okay?” he says.

“Oh. Okay,” Kevin replies. “Wait, I wasn’t panicking.”

Connor takes a breath, hesitates, then says “Your forehead… I mean, around your eyes, it gets tense when you’re freaking out.”

Now Kevin’s the one shocked as Connor shrinks back into his seat. _Does he really notice things like that?_ he thinks, one hand absentmindedly touching between his eyes. _And do I really?_

But he finds himself smiling and asking, “Is that what you like about me?”

Connor blinks, then, _thank goodness_ , he smiles. “Are we still playing, then?”

“If you want to,” Kevin replies, shrugging one shoulder. But he smirks and says “I don’t like when you nag at me.” It’s easier to find things to say when he doesn’t have to worry about whether Connor despises him or not.

Connor sighs longsufferingly. “I don’t like scrambled eggs.”

“What does that have to do wi- Oh.” Kevin frowns. He had made scrambled eggs for Connor the day he told him about the article. _That's kind of low._ But he shakes it off, smiling again as he says “I like when you laugh.” It’s sappy, but he doesn’t even care, not now.

Connor blushes softly, but he smiles, too, so Kevin counts it as a success.

“I… I like wearing your clothes,” he confesses quietly, delicate fingers tracing an invisible pattern on the tabletop, and Kevin’s stomach twists in that incredible way again. He decides that, maybe, he's starting to like that feeling.

But it’s time for something negative again, and he has to focus on things that he doesn’t want to think about right now. _What do I not like about him that isn’t really a_ bad _thing? I don’t want him to get mad at me again._ “Oh! I don’t like when you just shut yourself in you room and don’t talk to me. I l- I mean, I can’t technically say I like anything, this round, but I don’t like you ignoring me.”

Connor reacts strangely to that. It's not like he’s angry, but he's cringing away as if… _oh no._

“Connor!”

“Kevin, what? What’s wrong?”

“Did somebody hit you?”

“...what?” He looks more confused than scared, so maybe not, but...

“Did your dad or someone hit you, once? Is that why you always… uh, flinch when I…”

“What? No!” Connor replies, and Kevin sighs in relief. “It’s because of my old friend, James. His… his parents were an alpha and omega couple, and he… well, he was… it’s like what happened with us. His dad went into rut, and his mom couldn’t really do anything, because of her heat, and then at the end of the whole thing they had to get married and they had James, and then his little sisters, too. But the Churches… they always fought a lot.” His voice quiets down to almost a whisper, and Kevin has to lean in to hear what he says next. “One day, Mrs. Church came to my parents and, well, I wasn’t supposed to listen, but I heard her say that she just couldn’t stand being with her husband anymore, and that she was tired of covering up the bruises he left and of… of being the reason he was stuck. And… my parents, they… they told her that she should pray about it, you know, that Heavenly Father would work everything out and that He would use her to heal Mr. Church. She told them that she had tried, but they told her to trust in Heavenly Father, and..."

He stops.

“And?” Kevin prompts, and Connor closes his eyes.

“James found her the next day, in their living room,” he says. “She killed herself over it.”

It’s probably awful and disrespectful, but Kevin’s first thought is _that explains so much._ Because if that was what Connor was afraid of, no wonder he didn’t just fall into Kevin’s arms.

“That’s terrible,” he says, and Connor nods.

“Well,” he continues, “that was more depressing than I meant it to be, but, anyway, the point I was getting at was I always remembered that, and then… my dad is really a wonderful person, but he did yell at me sometimes, after camp, and… well, I just don’t like making people angry.”

Kevin nods thoughtfully, more than a little overwhelmed with everything he’s learning about the person he lives with. _I never would have thought that he… that_ anyone _would do that to their family, really; but that he would have been, I don’t know,_ exposed _to that, that's crazy._

But Connor sighs, and he sets his shoulders, and he says “I guess that’s what I don’t like about you. You’re scary when you’re angry.”

“Okay,” Kevin replies softly, biting his lip. Suddenly, he never wants to be angry again. “Um… maybe we should stop playing. There’s a lot to… I mean, we’ve been playing for a while, and I think we might get kicked out of here soon.” He gestures to the barista, who’s been sending them fed up looks for the past five minutes.

“Oh,” Connor says. “Okay. Didn’t you say we have to end with something positive, though?”

“Yeah,” Kevin replies. “So… this is going to be kind of… I mean, don’t take- uh, just… it’s a positive thing, that’s for sure, but..." He takes a deep breath, exhaling harshly. “I like your eyes.”

Connor blinks, surprised.

“They’re very blue,” he adds, as if the color really matters. Connor still looks floored.

“Well,” he says, after a few moments, “I don’t know if I can really top that, but I… I guess I must say that I like seeing you with children. It’s… endearing.”

 _With children_. As in… as if he were a dad. Or, just that he could be a good dad. _No, I’m reading too much into that. He couldn’t mean… Of course not. I still don’t even know if he likes me yet._

But he can feel his cheeks burning, and he ducks his head, halfway between embarrassed and flattered.

“Thanks,” he says, and Connor smiles softly.

“You’re welcome.”  

*****

There’s still the rest of the afternoon they have to spend together, and then Kevin’s surprise at night, but the day passes in a sort of tired, comfortable silence between the two of them.

Kevin takes Connor to get a cell phone, and the look of amazement and gratitude on his face is second only to his excitement when it's revealed that no, this isn’t the big surprise.

They eat dinner at some mediocre chain restaurant that makes Connor vaguely nauseous, but it’s close enough to where the surprise is that the short walk through the blustering cold wind settles his stomach, and he somehow finds the energy to jump up and down when they find themselves outside of the Echo Theatre and Kevin hands him two tickets to The Crucible.

He doesn’t hug Kevin, or do anything except say how happy he is to be back in a theatre over and over again, but he looks like he might want to, and for now that’s enough.

When he falls asleep in the car on the way back home, Kevin is so reluctant to wake him up that he briefly wonders really how heavy a pregnant man could be, but then he softly shakes his shoulder and helps lead him upstairs and to the miniscule hallway between their two rooms. He hesitates, Connor leaning sleepily against him, and for a moment he thinks _maybe he’d actually like for us to-_ before Connor yawns, pushes himself upright, mumbles goodnight, and shuffles off to his bedroom.

Even after that, Kevin goes to bed with the biggest grin on his face he’s ever worn in his life.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Connor and Kevin go to dinner.

“Kevin!” Connor yells frantically, “I can’t find my tie! Did you take it?”

“No!” Kevin shouts back from his room, where he’s painstakingly brushing his hair down for the fourth time. “I don’t even wear bowties!”

Connor groans in frustration before squealing, “Found it!” from somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.   
“Where was it?” Kevin calls, smirking satisfiedly at his reflection in the mirror.

“In the kitchen, on the counter so I wouldn’t forget it.”

He chuckles at Connor’s expense, a soft smile crossing his face.

Things have been better. A lot better. They even talk most days without fighting, now, and it’s a marked improvement. Each day is incomplete without an exchange of goodnights, and Kevin lives for sleepy conversations over breakfast. And now, getting ready for dinner with Naba and Arnold, Connor hasn’t made one comment about how it’s the _two_ of them going _together_ to _Kevin_ ’s friends’ place.

In Kevin’s opinion, there’s plenty to smile about.

"Kevin!"

"Yes?”

“What time are we supposed to be there?”

Kevin looks at the clock. _Oh._ “Right now, actually.”

*****

“Hey, Arnold?”

“Oh hey, buddy! Are you on your way?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that. Hold on a second?” He rests the phone on his shoulder and throws his entire weight on the wheel in the craziest u-turn he’s ever attempted. Cringing at the tires squealing and very pointedly not looking over to see Connor’s reaction, he picks up the phone again.

“Kevin, man, don’t worry about it, Naba is totally chill with you guys being late. It’s really okay,” Arnold replies.

“Yeah, okay,” Kevin says, quickly passing three cars ahead. “We’re on our way, though, I promise; we just had… uh… a wardrobe malfunction.”

Connor huffs. “More like you were too preoccupied with your hair to look at a clock.”

On the other end of the line Arnold gasps. “Is that Connor?” he shouts. “Hi, Connor!”

Kevin winces, pulling the phone away, and Connor neatly snatches it from his hand.   
“Hello, Arnold,” he greets. “It’s so lovely to meet you.” He smirks as Kevin tries to take the phone back, leaning away. “I’m sorry we haven’t gotten the chance to speak before.”

Kevin groans, speeding past some cars that really shouldn't be in the left lane.

"Connor, would you cut it out?" he hisses, blindly reaching out for his phone, getting a handful of Connor's shirt for his pains.

"Hey now! No manhandling!" Connor says, jerking away, and on the other end of the line, Arnold laughs.

"You guys really shouldn't try to do stuff like that while Kevin's driving. Naba and I can wait if you wanna pull over or something."

Connor blushes to the roots of his hair. "Oh goodness, no, it's not... It's not like that at all! Kevin just doesn't... nevermind. It's been lovely talking to you, and we'll be there soon."

After Arnold gives a cheery farewell, Connor hangs up, shoving Kevin's phone back at him.

"What on earth did you tell them?" he asks, suddenly angry. "Do they think we're a couple?"

"What? No, I just told them the truth! Why would you even ask that?"

"Maybe because Arnold apparently thinks we're _sleeping together_?"

"He- what?!"

"Didn't you hear that? He thought we were doing _it_ in the car."

"That's not even possible! Why would he..." Kevin glares at his phone like it's the cause of all this. "Arnold..."

"Just... Kevin, you promise you didn't say anything about us being... together?"

"No, I didn't, I swear!" _I mean, just because I said I wanted it doesn't mean it's actually happening._

Connor sits back in his seat with a huff. "Fine. If you say so, then I guess I have to trust you."

Kevin sends him a sideways glance, but Connor doesn't elaborate; they spend the rest of the ride in silence.

But Connor's obviously getting fed up with him, because he threatens to jump out of the car when Kevin drives past Arnold and Naba’s apartment complex for the third time (“Connor, I don’t know if this is it! The directions weren’t very clear, you know!”) and when Kevin frantically checks his hair in the flip-down mirror, he slams the mirror shut and says “Kevin, your hair couldn’t look any better if Heavenly Father himself styled it; now, will you stop procrastinating? We’re half an hour late!”

Finally, they traipse up the stairs to the Cunningham’s second floor townhouse. Connor pretends that it didn’t wind him at all, but Kevin has to fuss over him anyway, so when Naba opens the door, they’re in a bit of an interesting position: Kevin standing protectively over Connor, who’s leaning back against the stair rail, half clutching at Kevin’s tie.

In reality, Connor had been trying to push him away, saying that he’s perfectly fine and it’s only a set of stairs, but as Naba giggles, Kevin sees exactly how it could be taken. _Especially since Arnold thinks we’re doing…_ it _all the time._

He steps away, clearing his throat harshly. “Um… hey there, Naba. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been wonderful! But yes, come in, please, both of you.” She steps out of the way, her blue dress falling elegantly over her belly; it’s obvious now that she’s pregnant, and Kevin sees Connor’s surprised look as he notices.

The door has barely shut before Kevin’s wrapped in a ferocious hug.

“Best friend!” Arnold cries, crushing Kevin’s torso. “It’s so great to have you over! We haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Arnold, buddy, I saw you last week,” Kevin replies, laughing, but he hugs back, because, darn it, he’s got a bad habit of starting to like people who maybe might not be the best choice of associates.

But then Arnold steps back and looks over at Connor. “Oh boy, you must be Connor!” he says, sending Kevin a significant look. “I’ve heard so much about you!” And it’s Connor’s turn to be enveloped in a hug. He not used to it the way Kevin is, so when he happens he just sort of stands there, looking lost, until Arnold pulls back, patting his arm. “Sorry, I forgot to ask if you were okay with that. I’m working on it, but I just really like people, and you seem really nice!” he says cheerfully.

“...you just met me,” Connor replies, politely confused. Kevin stifles a laugh. _It’s like watching myself meet Arnold all over again._

“I know, but Kevin talks about you all the time!”

Connor raises an eyebrow, and now Kevin’s definitely not laughing.

“Okay, yeah, Connor, this is Arnold, obviously, and this is his wife, Nabulungi,” he says quickly. Naba waves, smiling, and Connor has to take a step back to actually look at all of her.

“Oh, my,” he says, looking up with wide eyes, “you’re very…”

“Beautiful, I know,” Arnold says, proudly wrapping an arm around his wife’s middle.

“Yes, of course,” Connor replies, smiling. “That’s… yes, definitely.”

She laughs, resting her head on Arnold’s. “I’m six feet tall, if you were wondering,” she says sweetly, and Connor blushes.

“Oh, yes, I… all right. That’s… I’m sorry for being rude.”

Kevin is stuck just looking between the two of them, trying to figure out what the vague half questions are all about, but luckily Arnold’s attention span is incredibly short and he’s already started dragging Naba to the kitchen because “I’m hungry and we’ve been waiting for hours!”

“Half an hour, Arnold.”

“Well, yeah, but I’m a good cook!”

Connor frowns. “Wait, Arnold, you… you cooked?”

Arnold laughs, getting out a stack of plates and some silverware. “Yeah. Naba’s an awful cook, actually. We’re working on it, but I had something special I wanted to make tonight so, yeah.”

The Cunninghams both go into the tiny kitchen, and Kevin and Connor are left on the other side of the bar-height counter. Connor sends Kevin a confused look and mouths ‘She doesn’t cook?’ at him.

Kevin shrugs. _I honestly I had no idea._

Connor’s eyes narrow. “That’s weird,” he whispers, and Kevin has to lean in to hear him.

“Yeah, but she’s also, like, six inches taller than him, so…”

“But it’s not _right_ , Kevin. I thought you said they were part of the church?”

“They are! I don’t really know why they’re acting like this!”

“Hey, are you guys gonna keep whispering sweet nothings at each other or are you gonna come eat?”

Connor and Kevin jump apart, sheepishly following a beaming Arnold into the kitchen.

“So… we don’t actually have a table or anything,” he says without a trace of embarrassment, “so you guys get the couch, and Naba can have the chair, and I’ll take the floor.”

Kevin stops. "Wait, you guys just eat in the living room? On the carpet and everything?"

"Yeah...?"

Now he's the one getting weird looks. Connor mouths 'just go with it'.

"...of course you do, yeah. All right. Um, what's for dinner?"

“Uh…” Arnold says, looking to Naba. “I can cook it, but I can’t pronounce it.”

“ _Luwombo_ ,” she says. “It’s Ugandan. Arnold likes to make food from my homeland.”

Connor gasps, and everyone’s eyes shoot to him.

“Connor, are you-”

“I’m fine, Kevin,” he snaps, and Kevin steps back, hands raised in surrender.

“Sorry,” Connor continues, smiling sweetly at the Cunninghams. “He gets a little clingy.”

Arnold raises his eyebrows at Kevin, and Naba politely hides her smirk behind her hands. “But, anyway, I’ve always been fascinated by central Africa. I would have never guessed you were from there.”

And of course Connor and Naba just hit it off, chatting together over their bowls of _luwombo_ (which apparently is kind of a stew-casserole-tamale thing that doesn’t really look like anything in particular, but still tastes really good) and Kevin’s left awkwardly ignored in the corner. Because Arnold, while a great guy and a great friend, has a tendency to focus singlemindedly on his wife whenever she happens to be in the room.

It does give him the chance to talk to him later, though, because Arnold doesn’t even leave the dishes for Naba to wash. He’s whistling cheerfully, elbows deep in dish soap, when Kevin sidles into the kitchen and asks, “Hey, so… do you think Connor and I are, uh… together?”

“Well, yeah,” Arnold says, “obviously.” He laughs. “That’s a stupid question.”

“We’re not.”

“You’re not?”

“No, we’re… we’re sort of… not.”

Arnold doesn’t even bother to look confused. “Yeah, you kind of are, actually.”

“What? I think we get to decide that, Arnold.”

“Okay, okay, whatever. But how are you _not_ together?”

Kevin sticks his hands in his pockets, shrugging a little. “We’re just… not.” _I mean, you kind of have to… to want to be, right? Both parties have to._

“You’re having a baby together.”

“Woah, _okay_ , that’s not… I mean, we haven’t really talked about that in a while, but he’s- the baby is going up for adoption, we’re… that’s basically already decided.”

“Sure, Kevin. Anyway, you’re living together.”

“So? We can… we’re just roommates.”

“Roommates who like each other, and have sex, and act like a couple, yeah, totally. Roommates.”

“Arnold! We are not having- we are not participating in… in _homosexual behavior_!”

“But you make goo-goo eyes at each other all the time, I guess. You guys seriously aren’t doing anything together? It’s okay to tell me, best friend; it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Kevin feels his ears burning. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of because _nothing is happening_!”

“Oh,” Arnold says, commiserating. “No wonder you’re so tense.”

“Arnold!” _That’s… that’s horribly inappropriate!_

“What? It’s true; sex is really good for your stress levels. Plus, it helps even out the little bumps in a relationship. You and Connor really should go for it; it might help with the whole communication issue you’ve got going on.”

“Communication issue?” _Where did my friend Arnold go, and who left this_ sex counselor _in his place?!_

“Yeah, you guys obviously don’t talk at all. You’ve got this big sexual tension vibe going on, and after you fuck it out, I think you just need to sit down and have a nice, long conversation about what you want from each other and your futures.”

“Arnold Cunningham!”

“What, Kevin?”

“You… your _language_!”

“Oh, come on, as if you haven’t said it.”

“As if- of course I haven’t said it! What do you take me for, a, a heathen?”

Arnold actually stops washing the dishes to give Kevin an unimpressed look.

“Honestly, Arnold, what’s happened to you? I thought you… you’re like a completely different person!” Arnold sighs, rinsing out the big pot he had cooked dinner in. “You cook and clean, which are both things that your wife is supposed to do, and yeah, she’s not exactly a picture perfect Mormon, but she can’t help being so tall, but now you’re… you’re cursing and telling me to- to have relations with a _boy_ , and what… where is all of this coming from?”

Kevin stops, flailing his hands instead of continuing, because what is he supposed to do with all of this?

Arnold stops his work, then, looking towards the living room, where Naba and Connor seem completely oblivious to what he and Kevin are talking about, and then he looks back, and realization dawns on his face.

“Are you still going to church every Sunday?” he asks, and Kevin almost falls over.

“You’re not?”

“Okay, yeah, this is where- okay. So, Kevin, here’s the thing: I’ve been doing some reading, and before 1978, the Church didn’t even think that black people were… like, white people and black people couldn’t get married. They didn’t even think of them as actually people. And, yeah, historical context and all that, but that’s just wrong.” He rests dish-water damp palms on Kevin’s shoulders, his expression something that would look more at home on Kevin’s dad’s face after Kevin did something really, really bad. “There’s a lot that the church has gotten wrong, Kevin. There’s a lot that I just can’t believe in. So, I’m taking a little break from it, and I think maybe you and Connor, if he’s been going, should, too.”

Kevin splutters, pushing Arnold off of him and turning to pace up and down the tiny space of the kitchen. “Arnold, we can’t just… _not_ go to church. And we can’t just doubt Heavenly Father! That’s not right!”

“I figured you’d say that.” Kevin stops, turning to face Arnold. He’s standing there, looking the exact same as he did all those months ago at the Center, when Kevin had been so sure that he was an alpha, that he knew Heavenly Father’s plan better that He Himself did, except instead of being scared and overeager, Arnold's calm, and patient, and he looks _old_ , like he knows more than Kevin does, and it’s _not fair_.

“How come you’ve got your life all together?” Kevin hisses, stalking up and getting right in Arnold’s face. “How come everything’s working out perfectly for you, huh?”

Arnold shrugs, smiling a little. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I didn’t choose that, you know. I just kind of… go with it.”

That is definitely not the sort of thing Kevin Price does.

“I didn’t get to know when I’d find Naba. I didn’t know that any of this was gonna happen. We’ve got a baby on the way, Kevin, but… but none of that was under my control. God’s got a plan for you, just like He’s got one for Connor, and for Naba, and for me, and I think, sometimes, you just gotta… gotta go with it. You gotta trust that it’s okay to not know everything.”

Kevin opens his mouth but then Arnold holds up a hand. “Think about what you’re gonna say, because I’m pretty sure you’re about to embarrass yourself,” he says, grinning, and Kevin steps back, ashamed, because, yeah, yelling “Of course I know everything!” would have been pretty awful.

“Come on, buddy,” Arnold says, patting him on the back. “I’ve got pudding in the fridge, and the funniest thing in the world is watching Naba try to stop herself from eating more dessert.”

*****

The rest of the night goes really, really well, even though Kevin spends most of it feeling like his soul got its hair ruffled and he can’t get it straight again.

Connor and Naba talk about pregnancy too much, and Arnold’s laugh is just as annoying as it was the first day they met, and they end up all squished together on the couch watching some movie that Arnold claims is the greatest thing to ever happen to cinema (“other than _Star Wars_ , of course. _Star Wars_ is the best thing to happen to the world”). It turns out to be _Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark_ , and Kevin’s drifting off before Indy and Marion even get to Egypt. The last thing he remembers, then, is Connor snuggling into his side, and Arnold excitedly pointing out inane details to Naba, and he thinks _this… this is actually really nice._

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which discoveries are made.

So from then on, Kevin (and Connor; they make the decision together) decides that the movie night idea they had, back when they were living with the Prices, really should be put into practice, if only because Arnold gave them a list of film recommendations about a mile long.

That’s more or less how Wednesday night finds them both seated on the cheap Ikea couch, legs forward, exactly one cushion away from each other, facing the TV while the opening credits for _Star Wars: the Phantom Menace_ begin to roll.

“It’s a classic!” Arnold had assured them, “there’s seriously no way to go wrong with Star Wars.”

The yellow lines are moving up from the bottom of the screen when Connor comments, “I like the music.”

Kevin nods politely. “It is… uh, pretty striking.”

Connor nods back.

They’re ten minutes in when Connor stands, smoothing the wrinkles from his pants, and says “I think I’m going to go make us some snacks. Do we have popcorn?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. In the top cabinet above the oven, I think.”

Connor smiles. “Perfect. I’ll be back in a bit.”

The moment he’s gone Kevin collapses onto the couch, groaning into a pillow. “This is so boring!”

“What was that?” Connor calls, the slamming of a cabinet door interrupting him.

“Nothing!” Kevin shouts, sitting up straight again. He really doesn’t want to admit he has no idea what’s going on onscreen, but… he has no idea what’s going on. _Why can’t we just watch_ Toy Story _or something?_

He dedicates his full attention to the screen, then, doing his darndest to figure out what's happening so he can talk about it with Connor like a mature movie-watcher, but by the time his roommate actually comes back, bowl of popcorn in hand, he's too desperately confused to do more than grunt in acknowledgement that he's there. Connor's staring, he knows, but he can't make himself look away; what if he misses something crucial to the plot?

Something touches his hand, though, and he jumps, almost throwing the popcorn and himself to the ground.

"Kevin, honey," Connor ventures, holding out his hands placatingly. "I think you need to relax a little. It's just a movie."

"But I don't understand it!" he whines, "and if I don't understand it, I won't be able to talk about it and then we can't have a good night getting to know each other and it'll all be my fault!"

Connor stifles a giggle, and Kevin groans into a pillow again. This, right here, is why he hates grown-up movies.

"Kevin, it's honestly not a big deal," Connor says. "You don't have to understand it to enjoy it."

"But I don't enjoy it! It's boring, and I just want to watch a movie I like."

Connor stops laughing. "You know... I'm not particularly compelled by this, either. Would you like to put in a k- one of your movies for this week?"

Kevin pops up again, looking at Connor hopefully. "Really?"

"Well, you'll have to let me have my turn next week, but yes, I think we'd both enjoy ourselves more this way."

Kevin grins, and he's half a second from launching himself across the couch to hug him when he realizes that, as far as he knows, personal contact is way off limits. And there's the popcorn in the way. So he just beams and says "Oh goodness, thank you so much, Connor! This is going to be so much better, I promise!"

He dashes to his bedroom, ignoring the way Connor's laughing at him.

But then he's standing face to face with his collection of childhood favorites, and he doesn't know which one to choose.

_They're all so good..._

He actually doesn't have that many; his mom only let him pick five from the family's stash, but then he bought a couple more for himself (they were on sale at Target; it was a good deal!), and really, picking only one Disney movie to share with Connor on their first movie night is more pressure than he was expecting.

Finally, after Connor threatens to come in after him, he blindly reaches out for two and heads back to the living room, holding them in front of him and only opening his eyes enough to see the floor.

"Pick for me," he says, dramatically throwing his arms out. "I can't choose."

Connor snorts, and then one of the DVDs is taken from his hand.

"I haven't seen this one," he says contemplatively. "I guess we'll go with it, then."

Kevin opens his eyes immediately, gasping when he sees what's in Connor's hands.

"You've never seen _Hercules_?" he asks, tossing the other movie into a corner. "How on earth could you have not seen _Hercules_? It's a work of art! Plus, there's the muses, and Meg, goodness gracious, I always wanted a girl like Meg, and Hades is such a scary bad guy, and then there's the music...! Oh my gosh, Connor, you'll love it!"

He snatches the movie away, running to the DVD player and shoving it in as fast as he can. He practically bouncing with excitement when he comes back to sit on the sofa, and Connor side-eyes him warily.

"Do you always get this excited about Disney?"

Kevin laughs. "Oh, you have no idea."

He learns, though, as Kevin sings and dances (as much as he can while sitting down) through the movie, jumping up the octave to croon "I Won't Say I'm in Love" with not an ounce of shame. This is the stuff he loves, and nothing and no one can keep him from enjoying it. Connor laughs at him a lot, but they both gasp when Meg shoves Hercules out of the way, and Kevin knows he hears a soft sigh when Herc chooses to stay on Earth with her. At least he thinks he does over his own contented hum.

"A star is born!" he shouts, singing along triumphantly as the final scenes play, and Connor gently rests a hand on his arm.

"Kevin, honey, we're in an apartment; people might hear."

Kevin just takes his hand and pulls them both up and into a weird sort of shuffle. "Dance with me!" he says, grinning, as Connor almost trips over his own feet,

"What? Kevin, this isn't really a dancing song."

"Aw, are you chicken?"

" _Honestly_ , Kevin, this isn't a good song for dancing. Go back to that other one, the hero one, and then I'll show you dancing."

Connor does not disappoint.

“Wow,” Kevin says admiringly. “You’re really good.”

Connor blushes, waving a dismissive hand. “I had a few years of lessons, that’s all.”

“No, seriously, I’ve never seen anybody dance like that.”

“Well, you’re hardly the harshest critic, but thank you.” He’s breathing heavy, leaning against the sofa, and he laughs softly. “I forgot how much this little one weighs,” he says, resting one hand comfortably on his stomach. “It throws off my balance.”

Kevin smiles but doesn’t say anything; Connor talking about the baby, acknowledging that it exists beyond just wrapping his arms around it protectively, is rare, and he doesn’t want to spoil the moment. But he watches, looking over at Connor with a face he doesn’t realize is probably dopey as heck until Connor looks up at him and the smile on his face dies.

“Wh- oh.” Kevin clears his throat, glancing away. “I didn’t mean to stare, sorry.”

“...no,” Connor says, breathlessly. “It’s fine. You just… you had a… a weird, um, look on your face. I’ve never seen you look like that before.”

Kevin nods sharply, brushing down his shirt. “It’s… I probably looked really silly. I was kind of… staring off into space, you know?”

“Oh.” Connor’s voice isn’t nearly as breathless, now. “Thinking about someone?”

Kevin’s head jerks up despite himself, and he gives Connor a puzzled look. “What? No.”

Connor purses his lips, coming around to sit on the couch again. “Really? You’re not thinking of some girl you had to leave behind for me?”

It takes a second, but then Kevin laughs, falling flat on the couch with his head next to Connor’s leg.. “No, that’s ridiculous. Even if I was thinking about somebody, it wouldn’t be like that.”

“Why not?”

“Why… well, there was never anybody, uh, like that, for me. Isn’t that kind of obvious?” _I mean, we’re supposed to wait for_ the one _,_ _for Heavenly Father’s plan, right? I’m not really the type of guy to just throw my heart at any pretty girl in my ward. That’s not what he’s thinking, right?_

Connor stops moving, turning to look Kevin full in the eyes. “You never... ?”

“No, of course not.” _This is a dumb conversation_. He ignores the way his palms are getting sweaty, wiping them off on his t-shirt.

“You never had a crush on anyone?”

Slowly, Kevin shakes his head, looking up at Connor with wide eyes. “Is that… a problem?” _I thought everybody was like that._

“No, no, of course not,” Connor replies dismissively, “but it is… well, it’s a little… unexpected.”

“Unexpected?” _So it is weird._

“Well, I would just think, a guy like you…”

“A guy like me?” _Is this about my ego again? Because, honestly, I may be a little prideful but at least I follow the rules! I wouldn’t have had feelings for someone just because I think I’m a good person._

“You never had anyone like that in your life?”

“For the last time, Connor, no, I didn’t. I waited, like a good, righteous Mormon would, for the person Heavenly Father intended for me. Honestly, it’s like nobody else in the world does that, the way you’re acting.”

But then Connor looks away, just for a second, and Kevin twists around so he can half sit up, propping himself on his elbows.

“Wait, other people do that. They do; right?”

“I hardly know the romantic lives of everyone in the world, Kevin.”

“That’s a cop out, and you know it.”

Connor smiles, patting Kevin’s head. “Smart boy.”

“Come on, don’t do that,” he whines. “We talked about this.”

Connor sighs, looking away again. “Fine, yes, you’re right. I’m sorry for patronizing you.”

Kevin waits, but Connor doesn’t continue. “You’re still avoiding the question.”

The redhead hesitates, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie (the one from back in July, when Kevin had picked him up) awkwardly, and Kevin takes the opportunity to pull himself upright, facing Connor on the couch.

“Kevin, honey, I honestly don’t know if other people do that or not."

“But…?”

Connor sighs again, longsufferingly. “But, as far as I know, no one… adheres to the rules as strictly as you have.”

“Really?” _Wait._ “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“If you say the people you know don’t follow the rules, that means you didn’t follow the rules either. You’ve _liked_ someone before.”

Kevin’s half disgusted and half fascinated. Well, maybe not quite half and half; there’s something else there that feels like jealousy but he’s going to pretend he never noticed that.

Connor looks away quickly, but Kevin knows by now what that means.

“Well, now you have to tell me about it.”

“I _have_ to?”

That was, maybe, a bad choice of words. “Okay, you don’t _have_ to, but, honestly, I didn’t think you liked other people, and now I learn that _everybody_ except me did? You can’t blame me for being a little curious.”

Connor’s expression can be best described as ‘I can do whatever I want, Kevin Price, and don’t you try and tell me otherwise,’ but he settles into his seat, adjusting the pillow behind him, and mutters, “Fine. But don’t you get all offended or disgusted about it, okay? I’ve heard enough preaching about my love life in the past.”

 _He had a love life?_ 'Love life' implies more than a forbidden crush, that's for sure. “I promise.”

“... all right, then. When I was... well, it must have been back in fifth grade, because that's when... Oh, no, before that. My older sister, Hope, she came back from summer camp when I was about ten, I think, and she brought her alpha with her, to meet the family, and... I just remember looking up at him because yes, there was a time when I was even tinier than I am now, and... and I just thought he was the handsomest man I'd ever seen." Connor's smiling softly, _dreamily_ , and Kevin wants to gag.

"You had a crush on a _guy_? On your sister's _alpha_? How old was he, even? Gosh!" _That's just gross._

"It wasn't exactly a crush, Kevin; it was more of... I admired him, from a distance. Still do- or, well... I haven't seen him in a few years. But Kevin, you promised to be mature about this."

Kevin sighs dramatically. "Fine." 

Connor sends him a suspicious look, but he keeps going so Kevin doesn't think he's in too much trouble yet.

"After Adam, I... I sort of knew, I guess, that maybe I didn't see girls the way I should, but I was so young it didn't really matter. I thought I would grow out of it." He chuckles ruefully, shaking his head, and one hand comes to rest on his belly again.

"But when I was in fifth grade, I met a boy named Steve. We became best friends, and my parents loved him. He was polite, of course, but he played soccer and liked math and was... He was the son they wanted, I guess. Looking back, I'm guessing he's probably an alpha now. He was good-looking, too. Dark eyes, dark hair, and dark skin. We were almost exact opposites, but I... we stuck together anyway. He taught me sarcasm, that's what I remember most clearly."

"Ah, so he's the one I have to blame," Kevin mutters, and Connor punches him in the arm, grinning.

"Honestly, it's like you don't want to hear the end of this."

"No, no, I do! Keep going, I want to hear all about how devilishly handsome this little twerp was."

"We were eleven, Kevin; most of this is just me thinking back, all right? Anyway, that summer, oh! That was when Chastity, my second oldest sister, went to camp. But, as I was saying, my whole family went off to Alabama for a family reunion, and we went to the beach while we were down there. Orange Beach, I think it was. It was there that I..." He blushes. "I had a... a dream, about Steve and I. It was one of _those_ dreams, you know, but it was so nice... It was just us on the beach at first, but-"

Through his righteous annoyance with Steve, Kevin gets the distinct impression he's missing something. "Wait, hold up a second. What do you mean by 'those dreams'?"

Connor blinks. " _You know_ , Kevin."

"Uh, no; no, I don't."

He leans closer, whispering like there's someone around to hear him. "A _wet_ dream."

"What on earth is that?"

"Kevin, stop playing around! I don't want to talk about it anymore than I have to."

"No, I'm serious; I don't know what you're talking about!"

Connor just stares at him for a moment, then, searching his face as if he thinks he's lying.

"I swear, Connor, I've never heard of a wet dream before. What is that?" _It sounds pretty awful, honestly, the way he's talking about it._

Connor frowns, sitting back. "Didn't your parents ever tell you?"

 _Wait; do they know what this is, too?_ "Was I supposed to ask them?"

Slowly shaking his head, Connor hesitates. "Maybe they waited for you to come to them, and that's why... but they shouldn't... I can't believe they didn't... I thought your parents were better than that."

"Hey now," Kevin says, straightening up, "whatever this is, this isn't their fault." Just because he doesn't- because he's not in on this big, universal secret that _everyone_ knows, it's got to be his own fault. Maybe there was a lecture he zoned out during, or a chapter he didn't read. But this kind of feels bigger than something like that.

_How could I have missed something this universal?_

"Kevin, it's nothing to be concerned about; they probably just didn't tell you the, the normal word for it."

Connor's trying to be soothing, Kevin knows, but his hands still twist into the side of the sofa cushions, and his shoulders are still tense and tight. He _really_ doesn't like not knowing things.

"It's..." Connor continues, fumbling, "it's when you have really nice dreams about, well, _others_ , and when you wake up, you..." He trails off, gesturing vaguely towards Kevin's crotch.

Kevin crosses his legs. "When I what?" _  
_

He's really starting to freak out, now, but Connor looks away, blushing.

"Come on, Kevin. Don't make me say it out."

"No, Connor, I don't get it. I don't know what you're talking about. What is this stuff? I don't understand." He ducks his head; his voice cracked at the end of that. _Why can't I just get it? Is there something wrong with me?_

"Oh, no, Kevin, it's not... It's just, it's kind of embarrassing. I don't like talking about it, but I'm not trying to keep anything from you," Connor says, resting a hand on Kevin's arm. "It's just when you, when you, um... well, release, during the night, or you... it's when you get aroused while you're asleep. Wet dreams are the common name for them, so I thought you'd know that, but if you don't that's not a problem. But now you know what I'm talking about, right? No more confusion?"

Kevin nods, looking down at his criss-crossed legs. _I have no idea what he's talking about,_ he thinks, _but there's no way I'm telling him that._ He blinks, hard. _There is_   _no way I'm going to get upset over this_. Even though he still doesn't know what _this_ is.

"Kevin?" Connor ventures, tentatively brushing his fingers against his cheek. "You do know what I mean, right?"

Kevin nods again, shoving Connor's hand away. "Yeah," he croaks. "I get it now."

"Okay," Connor replies; Kevin knows he doesn't believe him. "That... I mean, has that happened to you before?"

"Yes, of course," Kevin snaps, jerking away from Connor. "It happens to everyone, right?"

"Don't lie to me, Kevin."

"If you think I'm lying, then why did you ask?"

"I asked because I- I care, obviously. But you honestly haven't... you haven't... you've never had anything like that happen to you?" Connor's voice is soft, gentle, consoling, even, and if he were to look up right now Kevin knows he would be faced with his sharp blue eyes watching him with concern, with curiosity, with _pity_ and he can't deal with that right now.

"No!" he spits out, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "As far as I recall, I've never had to deal with that before. Not before the surgery, not after, never. Nobody ever told me I should, no one mentioned it, nothing ever- if literally _everyone_ else in the world, if this happens to everyone else, somebody should have mentioned it at some point, right?"

"Well, it probably doesn't happen to everyone," Connor murmurs placatingly. "As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure girls nev-"

"So I'm a girl now?" _The surgery was supposed to fix me! I'm supposed to be perfect now. The perfect alpha. What's wrong with me?_

"No, no, of course not, but they _are_ over half the world's population. Speaking strictly of boys, though, I'm sure that there must be others who don't... experience this."

Now Kevin looks up, meeting his eyes. "No, you're not. You didn't know that anybody _couldn't_ know until just now; just like I... like I didn't know about any of this until now. Until your stupid little Steve dream thing."

_There's... it's an entire world I didn't know about, a world I'm not a part of; how does that even happen?_

He snapped at Connor on purpose, he knows. He wants to make him angry, to get him to go away and leave Kevin behind to figure this out, but the redhead's just sitting there, an expression he's never seen on his face before. He looks like he's in pain, and the hand Kevin slapped away is sort of hovering in mid-air.

 _He wants to help. He wants to help me_ , Kevin realizes. _He wants to fix me._

_No! I do the fixing around here; that's my job!_

"Kevin, this... just because I didn't know about it doesn't mean that you're the only person in the world who hasn't had a wet dream before. I promise you, somewhere in the world there's been someone like you."

"But this is a thing that everyone knows, right?" he shouts, throwing himself off the couch. Yes, anger, that's better. Better than getting upset, anyway. "It's such a _normal_ thing that nobody even talks about it! They, they just assume, oh, Kevin Price, he can just _guess_ from nothingness that he's a freak! Nobody needs to tell him! Let's let him figure it out on his own!"

Connor stands, too, struggling for a moment and trying to say something, but Kevin won't let him.

"Let's let him figure out that everybody else breaks the rule about having feelings for others, and that people apparently think about sex while they're sleeping, even, and that those are _normal_ things to do! Let's not tell him any of that!" He stops, looking up to the ceiling like that'll bring Heavenly Father any closer. "Is this 'pride goeth before a fall', Father?" he asks. "Is this what I get?"

"Kevin, stop!" Connor yells. "This isn't a punishment for anything! Just calm down for a second, honestly. Take a deep breath."

After a second, he does; he breathes in deep, clutching at the fabric of the sofa cushion he apparently brought up with him.

"You're right," he lies, sitting down again. "I'm being ridiculous." He refuses to look up at a Connor, but it must be good enough of an answer because he lowers himself down again, sitting back and propping his feet up next to Kevin's thigh.

"It's okay," he offers, and out of the corner of his eye, Kevin sees him smile softly. "It's okay to not like being confused."

Kevin jerks his head in a quick nod. "You should finish your story," he says.

"What? Oh! My Steve Blade story? Well, there's not much to share there, I'm afraid. I had that dream about him, and I panicked much the way you just did. When I told my parents, they told me it was wrong, and that was that.

"I still dreamed about him, but I pretended I didn't, and we stayed friends until he went East and I went South for high school, and... and I never saw him again." He smiles again, his turn-it-off smile. "It was probably for the best," he says. "Like you said, Kevin, having feelings for boys is against God's will."

"Did you never have feelings for girls?" Kevin asks.

"...no," Connor admits. "They never, um... appealed to me."

Kevin wants to scoff. He wants to make some sort of comment about how Connor should know that the church is very much against that, and that he's clearly going against Heavenly Father's will, but what's the good of that when Kevin himself is trying to get them together, and... and, what? It's just... weird, right? Unnatural. Right?

Suddenly, Kevin understands _.That's how I feel_ , Kevin realizes with a dawning sense of horror, _but about everyone. Well. Almost everyone._

Kevin is struck dumb. How is he supposed to react? He doesn't... Connor's confessions rings sickingly true in his head, and what on earth is he supposed to do? People don't _appeal_ to him, at least not _that_ way, and... and it's never been a problem until this exact moment. Silence falls between them, and Kevin recognized the exact moment he starts to panic. What is wrong with him tonight? 

"Hey, when did you learnt that 'turn it off' thing you do?" he asks quickly, putting on a smile. "Maybe you could teach me." _That would be nice, right about now._

"Oh." Connor doesn't look like he was expecting that at all. "You... uh, it's... all right. My parents taught me, they and Bishop Milne, back at my ward. They, they said it was like 'fake it 'til you make', without the lying part. I just... I take those feelings, and I put them away. Technically it was intended for _gay thoughts_ , but then I guess I just started using it for... for everything else. Little annoyances and things. It's gotten harder, recently, but I guess that's because of... because of the pregnancy."

"Huh." _Maybe it's not as useful as I thought._ "If they meant it for just the gay thing, should you really be using it for other stuff?"

Connor purses his lips. "Well, if it works, why fight it?"

"But then you're all sarcastic and snippy," Kevin snaps. At least fighting is better than panicking. Because, no matter what, Kevin Price _does not panic._

"That's when it's not working, Kevin."

"So that's what you really think, then?"

"I... I guess to some extent, yes, it is."

It hurts more than he thought it would, hearing that. _Good to know what he really thinks about me,_ he thinks bitterly."Then you being nice is turning it off?"

He chuckles. "Sometimes, yes. Sometimes it's genuine, of course; I'm not evil. But yes, sometimes it's me turning off my frustration, or... whatever my feelings may be at the moment."

Kevin nods mutely.

"Kevin, are you all right? You're not upset about what we talked about earlier, are you?"

"No, of course not. Nothing to be upset about, right?" He smiles tightly, looking up at Connor for just a second before standing, stretching exaggeratedly. "I don't know about you, but I am absolutely _beat._ Long day at the office and all that. Why don't we hit the sack, and I'll talk to you tomorrow?" It's not really a question.

"Oh. Um... of course, if you're tired, that's exactly what we'll do. Goodnight." Connor struggles up off the sofa again, and Kevin has to keep himself from reaching out to give him a hand. Bad things happen when they touch like that.

"Goodnight, Connor."

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Connor has a good head on his shoulders. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for asexual-phobic shit from Kevin.

Connor doesn't talk to him so much after that. He's sweet about it, chirping cheerful "good morning"s when he serves breakfast and asking "how was your day?" when Kevin gets home from work. He smiles, still, and doesn't lock himself in his room. But Kevin always shuts him down; he doesn't want to talk to someone who hardly tolerates him.

 _He didn't mean it_ , he thinks, remembering the happy faces Connor had made when he brought up the concept of 'us'. _He was lying. Or he wants it with that Steve guy. Not me._

Because Kevin knows now that he's a freak. There's something wrong with him; it's not normal to not want people. He looked it up, and there's words for folks like him: _aromantic_ , and _asexual_. It's like being _gay_ , but even worse. At least for gays there's alpha/omega pairs, and they can have children. People like him... they don't. People like him are the ones the government hates, the ones the church hates. People like him are the reason they have the summer camp system in place. People like him are _abominations_.

It's funny; suddenly everything seems to be about sex, and love. He can't get away from it. His beta coworkers talk about going home to their wives, and the alphas boast about how hot their mates are, and there's ads up already for Christmas, screaming at him to get his significant other the perfect ring or blouse or car or chocolate for the most sacred of holidays, and every couple he sees just makes him want to puke.

 _I can't have that. I can't have that, and I can't... Connor._ He wants Connor, he realizes, wants him so badly, but it's not the same way a normal person would. Not the way Kevin should. There's always been something weird about it, he realizes; not love, not a crush... No, just screwed up, because that's how Kevin is.

He knows that he should start looking for another alpha for Connor; maybe try to track down Steve. He knows that time is ticking, that they- no, that Connor is at the end of his fifth month and that four months isn't a lot of time to find someone else to save him, but he can't force Connor into a bond with him that he'll never be able to complete. Bonds are supposed to make the people in it love each other, if they didn't already, but what if it doesn't work? It happens, sometimes, especially with people like him, he learns. He can't make Connor be stuck with that, with _him_ ; he _can't_.

Connor is normal. Being gay may be against the Bible's teachings, against the church, but it doesn't make a person a freak. It's not even really that bad; not as bad as drinking or having sex outside of marriage. Which, yes, they technically did, but... but God's mercy is abounding, and He'll forgive Connor for that. But not Kevin, not for this.

Connor's got a chance: there's absolutely nothing in the Bible or the Book of Mormon about male omegas being unredeemable, and if Kevin can just find someone who'll take care of him, and bond with him before the baby's born, then he, and the baby, will both be safe, and happy.

He just wants to see Connor happy.

Connor isn't happy now; he hates being stuck in the apartment all the time. Another alpha, any other alpha, would be better for him. Kevin just doesn't know what to do, or how to make things any better. For the first time, he can't keep his own life together, so how could he be expected to take care of a mate?

It's easier to just not think about the baby.

Apparently, though, being miserable like this is enough to get his boss and his dad's attention, and he gets sent home early the following Friday because "your bad attitude is dragging everyone down, son!"

He stomps into the apartment, slamming the door and throwing his satchel haphazardly onto the sofa. _I hate being stuck in this apartment with him!_  He thinks, burying his hands in his hair. For once, he doesn't even care what it looks like. _It's not fair!_ Surely Heavenly Father can't hate him this much. 

There's sounds coming from the kitchen, but everything else is quiet. He hasn't heard from Connor yet and his protective instincts (darn them) won't leave him alone until he finds the other boy.

"Connor?" he calls, striding into the small kitchen space. The redhead's not standing at the counter or the stove, humming as he usually does; he sitting at the kitchen table, slumped across it with his head resting on one arm. "Connor!"

Kevin's at his side in a flash, shaking him frantically. "Connor, wake up!"

He turns to look up at Kevin almost immediately, blinking blearily. "K- what?" he mumbles, sitting up with a groan. "What time is it? Why aren't you at work?"

Kevin steps back, crossing his arms. "I got sent home. What were you thinking, though, falling asleep with the stove on?" Because it is on, and there's a pot of soup merrily boiling away mere feet from Connor, and that has to be incredibly dangerous!

Connor sends him a weird look, though, standing slowly and going to turn the heat down. "I set a timer, Kevin. I was just so tired; I haven't been sleeping well lately."

Kevin scowls. "But you could have gotten hurt!"

"Or I could have passed out from exhaustion right over the stove," Connor snaps. "I think I picked the more responsible thing, don't you?" Stirring quickly, he glares down at it. "You don't get to micromanage me, Kevin. I'm sorry if I'm not doing things perfectly, but this is my apartment, too."

_Not for long._

"Fine. Just make sure it doesn't happen again."

"...excuse me?"

Kevin doesn't reply, going to the living room and scooping up his stuff again. _There's gotta be something I can work on from here,_ he thinks. _Even if Dad banned me from the office._

"Now hold on just a minute, mister; we need to talk about this!" Connor says, following him. "My back has been hurting all day, I'm exhausted and dizzy ninety percent of the time, I feel like I'm twice the size I used to be, and I can't sleep at night because this child of yours never settles down, and you just come in all heavy-handed and tell me I can't take a nap while making _your_ dinner?"

"I- you... What?"

Connor gasps, throwing one hand over his mouth as if he can take the words back.

"Wait, just-" Kevin doesn't really know which part of that sentence to look at first: that Connor's so uncomfortable and hasn't said anything; that the baby's been kicking (and he didn't know); that Connor called the baby _his child_ ; or that, put in those words, he really does look like a jerk. "Look, Connor: I'm sorry," he says. "I don't mean to... I didn't realize you were having trouble sleeping. I... I'm not trying to be a jerk."

"You aren't?" Connor asks, setting his hands on his hips. He's trying to sound mad, but Kevin can hear the relief behind it. Maybe he should have asked about one of the others things, instead. "Then what has the past week or so been about? Ever since last Wednesday, you've just... it's like you're so angry with me you can't contain yourself or something. What on earth did I do? I've been trying to be nice, but it's not easy, you know."

Kevin sighs, running one hand through his hair. "I know," he says; it comes out a lot more despondent than he thought it would.

Connor frowns. "Is something wrong?"

 _Yes!_ "No."

"...lying is a sin, Kevin."

"It's..." _Why did he have to remind me?_ "It's just been a long week at work."

"Hmm," Connor replies, coming closer. Kevin tries to back up, to keep away from him, but he hits the sofa and almost falls back onto it, catching himself on the arm just before losing his balance. Connor doesn't stop, though; he comes right up to Kevin, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Is that true?"

Kevin doesn't even try to hold his gaze. "Yeah."

"Is that _all_?"

Kevin doesn't answer.

Connor sighs, stepping back and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Kevin, honey, I thought we were going to talk about things like this."

Kevin winces. "You shouldn't call me that."

"What, 'honey'? Why not?"

"Just... endearments aren't exactly..." _It's not going to make distancing myself any easier._ "They're probably not the best idea."

"And why not? I thought you liked them."

Kevin turns as if to go; there's no way he can say this while looking at Connor and not do something stupid. "This is a temporary arrangement, and we probably shouldn't get that comfortable with each other."

Dead silence falls across the apartment.

 _I shouldn't have said that. No, I... was that the right thing to do? I don't know. It doesn't feel good, but... but that's not... this can't be about me anymore._ Kevin wants to scream. _Why can't I just know the right thing to do? Heavenly Father, why won't you help me?!_

"I was under the impression that you wanted something a little more permanent," Connor says. He doesn't sound angry. He doesn't really sound like anything.

"Yeah, well, plans change," Kevin snaps. _Crap, I shouldn't have... It's too late now._ "I'm going to go shower."

"No, you are not." Somehow Connor's at his elbow, taking a hold of his arm with a firm grip and a frown. "Have you changed your mind about us?"

Kevin wants to say anything other than yes, but he nods anyway, keeping his gaze trained on Connor's bare feet sticking out from under the threadbare hem of Kevin's oldest pair of sweatpants. _I hate when he does that,_ he thinks. _I won't have a single thing to wear that he hasn't touched. What am I supposed to do about that when he's gone?_

He clears his throat and tries to jerk away, but Connor moves with him.

"Why?" he asks coolly.

"Why? I just... I did, okay?"

"I want a reason." His voice isn't changing at all, and Kevin wants to cry.

 _No, no, I don't. I want to get away. I have to get away from this. Just let me go already!_ "What do you want me to say?"

"You gave me reasons for wanting to have an us," Connor says. "I want the same treatment now."

"I don't-" _No, I have reasons. I have perfectly good reasons. I just can't say them out loud because I'm a baby. An overgrown baby-ish freak who can't be like the rest of the world and that Heavenly Father probably hates because I can't hear Him when I pray anymore and I just want to make things better and happy and safe like they used to be the way I wanted to for the one I was supposed to have and you're not it but you are but I can't have that because it's not for me and I just can't do this stop asking Connor I can't tell y-_

"Kevin!"

He gasps, reeling back from a slap to the face. His lungs are burning, _was I holding my breath?_ and suddenly he realizes that his eyes are watering and Connor _slapped_ him. "What did I do?" he asks.

"You didn't do anything, but Kevin, you- you weren't... I'm sorry. I guess I panicked. But you had that, that _look_ , and I didn't know what to do when you didn't respond." Connor takes a deep breath, and Kevin finds himself doing it too. "I'm so sorry."

"No..." Kevin mutters, clutching his jaw. "You're... you didn't do anything wrong." _Now look what you've done. You scared him. Awesome job, Kevin._

"Kevin, I... I don't think you want this anymore than I do. This... I mean, you want this to not be a temporary thing. Is that right?"

Kevin doesn't look up, he can't, because Connor sounds hopeful and _dang it_ this isn't how it's supposed to go.

"I- that's not... Connor, that's not the issue right n-"

"Then what is? Because, last I checked, I'm not the one calling everything off. I've given absolutely no indication that I wanted out."

 _No indication?_ "Then what about turning it off?" Kevin looks up, and now he can't look away. For some reason, wrapped in old sweatpants and a worn hoodie, hair mussed and face red, and even though Kevin's seeing him through a haze of tears because he's too _weak_ and _pathetic_ to keep from tearing up in front of him, even now, Connor looks absolutely, stunningly beautiful.

_This just isn't fair! Heavenly Father, why did you let this happen?_

"What about it?" Connor asks, stepping forward.

"You've had to turn it off every time you're around me, right?" Kevin's voice cracks, and he's ashamed of himself because if there's anything that proves that he's just an awkward, sinful, embarrassed little kid it's going to be that but he _can't look away_ and he keeps talking, asking question after question and damning himself further with every one. "Every time you're nice to me it's only because you have to be? You really want to fight and be sarcastic and just _hate_ me but I promised I'd keep you safe and it's going to be easier to just put up with me, right? It's all an act, and I thought you wouldn't lie, but you are, you have been, and I can't stand you being nice, Connor! I don't want you to call me 'honey' anymore or smile at me or do anything nice and makes me think you might-" Connor's frozen, but Kevin just keeps going, digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole and _just shut up, Kevin!_

"I want you to, but just, just stop already! Stop lying to me! Don't turn it off if that means it looks like you care! I can't handle it! If you hate me, just act like it! If you think I'm a freak, too, act like it! I know I can't- it's not- I'm going to find someone else for you, I promise, but don't just _pretend_ in the meantime! I want you, Connor, but I can't... I looked it up, the stuff you said and no, none of it, I've never had any of that sort of thing, and I never wanted anybody before or even thought that people were attractive and I thought that was _normal_ or even just okay but then you said it isn't and you know what people like me are? They're _freaks_ , they're abominations, and Heavenly Father hates them even more than gays! I've never been hated before, Connor, but I'd rather have that than your pretending and just... just you teasing me! Don't offer what you can't-" _No, it's not Connor who can't._ Can't what? He doesn't know; _I don't know anything anymore._

Then Connor laughs. "Is this about last Wednesday? Kevin, honestly, you're such a drama king. There's nothing wrong with you."

"Oh yeah?" His chin is quivering, but this isn't like last Wednesday. He can't just pretend he's tired, and run away like he did before. Connor deserves better than that. "You think that I'm just- that's it's all going to be okay? Well, I did some research. There's _others_ like me, Connor; other _freaks_. They never want to have families, or settle down. They don't want other people, and they're _broken_ , Connor. They say it doesn't go away. There's no way for me to turn it _on_. I can't be _normal_ for y-" He bites down on his lip and looks away. This isn't going how he planned at all; he's falling apart. He wanted to be strong for Connor, at least until he could get him somewhere, with _someone_ safe, but now...

"Kevin, look at me, please." Connor's voice isn't soft, and Kevin finds himself obeying. He's got on eyebrow raised, and his arms spread, gesturing to his stomach. "Kevin, honey, I know the sort of people you're talking about, and while I don't think there's anything wrong with them, I'm pretty sure you're not one of them. Do you want to know why I think so?" Kevin shakes his head, but Connor ignores him and says "because, no matter what you think, or how you're feeling right now, the fact is that I'm still pregnant, and it's your baby. We had sex, Kevin. Do you think a person who's broken would be able to do that?"

It's a good argument, Kevin knows, but it's so surreal and he's too emotional for this to be okay right now; he laughs bitterly.

"Connor, that's not-"

"I'm dead serious, Kevin. I'm pregnant, and you're not broken. I don't know what on earth you've been telling yourself for the past week, but none of it's true. When I was sent to sex therapy, I met people like you, you know. Asexuals, they called them. And, you know what? There was one really nice counsellor who told them to look at 1 Corinthians, chapter 7, where Paul talks about marriage. The Bible says it's better to abstain from sex, Kevin. Just because the church now says otherwise does not change that."

Kevin's jaw works for a moment before he can find a good response. "But what about in Genesis, where it says that a man should leave his parents and become one with his wife? What about 'go forth and multiply'?"

"Matthew 19, Jesus says that those who are what they are must accept themselves; that there are some who can stay celibate, and others who can't, and you need to be contented with your lot." Connor smiles then, soft and sweet, and comes up to Kevin, taking his hand. "Not to mention, I think there's plenty of Mormon families out there who can multiply for us, right?" Kevin looks away, and Connor sighs.

Kevin thinks that Connor will let him go, then; that maybe he's pushed him too far, but Connor doesn't drop his hand. No, he brings it up, resting it on the curve of his stomach. Kevin gasps, despite himself.

"Not everyone can bear children, Kevin," Connor says. "What I have... what I can do, it's a special gift. But there are others, people like you, and other omegas, and female betas, who can't do this, or just don't want to. Does that make them not people?"

Kevin can't answer.

Connor continues, almost whispering. "My mother had two miscarriages, between my sisters and me. Does that make her a freak? Did Heavenly Father hate her because for a while she didn't want any more children, do you think?"

"No," Kevin mutters. "She couldn't... that wasn't her fault."

"Do you think this is yours?"

"I..."

"It isn't."

"But how do you know?"

Connor huffs, stepping back. "Considering the amount of pain you're putting yourself through, I would say that it seems a bit foolish for you to do this to yourself."

"But Connor, what if... what if it's because-"

"Because of your massive ego? Well, so what if it is? There's nothing wrong with it, Kevin!"

"But it is wrong!"

"No, it isn't! There is nothing in the Bible that says that you, Kevin Price, have to have tons of children, or be sexually active, or have crushes on people. _Nothing_."

"But... but everyone else does..."

"And so now you have to? If all your friends were going to jump off a cliff, would you do that, too?"

"That's a cop out, and you know it."

"No, it really isn't! Nobody's commanding you to like anyone else, and you were doing just fine in your own little loveless world until you learned that not everyone else is exactly like you."

"My world isn't loveless!"

"Isn't that what you were just crying about?"

"There's people I love!"

"But not romantically, right? There's no one you want to have sex and a family with?"

"You don't know that!"

"You told me so yourself!"

"Just because there wasn't anyone doesn't mean there isn't."

"You... you met someone else?"

"What? No!"

"Then stop with the games, Kevin! Just, just accept yourself! It's okay to not want romance, all right?"

"That's not it, Connor."

"Then what is it? Why are you trying to say? I swear, you make it practically impossible to just care about you!"

_..what._

"What."

"What? Oh. Oh, gosh. Um... well."

"You care about me."

"Well..."

"You care about me."

"...it's not like I can take it back now, so... yes."

"You, you _care_ about... _me_."

"Yes, Kevin, we've established this."

"Like... really care?"

Connor swallows, closing his eyes for a moment in prayer. "Like... try a relationship, care. Or, since apparently you're not into m- that, support you in whatever you need sort of care."

"... I'm into that."

"...what?"

"You said I'm not into that. The, the relationship thing. I am." Kevin's breathless, and he's ninety-five percent sure his voice is squeaking, but in his defense he's never heard anything that sucked the air from his lungs like that before.

"But you..." Connor frowns. "You said you weren't into romance."

"I'm not," Kevin replies, looking at Connor as if just making eye contact with him would explain everything. "But I... it's you. It's different with you."

"...it is?" And there's that blasted hope in his voice again. His eyes are so big, so wide and open and full of feeling, and Kevin... _wait_.

"Wait a second, I told you that. I told you that already."

"What? Kevin, if you had said anything of the sort before this very moment, believe you me, I would remember it."

"No, no, when I... a little while ago, when I was, uh, yelling at you. I said I wanted you; didn't you hear me?"

Connor goes a little pale. "You said that?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did." And then Kevin laughs, burying his head in his hands because _what is going on, honestly._

"I... can't believe I missed that."

"...I can't believe you care."

Connor chuckles, too, shifting his weight onto one hip. "Me neither," he admits. "I didn't think I would, never in a million years, but then... you're just... Are you sure you... you want me? You don't just want to be really good friends?"

Kevin snorts. "No, I'm sure." It's not like he's been turning the idea over and over in his head for months or anything. It's not like he spent the entire past week breaking his own heart over the idea that he wouldn't even get the chance to woo Connor. It's not like he's broken down more in front of him than anyone else in his life, ever.

Connor takes a deep breath. "All right. So, I just want to make a few things clear, because I believe the greatest weakness in our relationship right now is, honestly, a lack of communication, and I don't want to spend another week as miserable as this last one because you think I hate you or something equally absurd. First of all, that... the turn it off thing you mentioned: I was _not_ talking about you. Kevin, honey, you're wonderful, but not everything is about you. Second of all, I don't care about any of that asexual nonsense. To be frank, our little foray into sex wasn't exactly enjoyable, and I don't know when, if ever, I'll want to repeat it. Not that it wasn't nice, in a weird way. But that's beside the point. Third, I haven't hated you since July, at least. And, um, fourth, I care for you. I care very deeply, and I'm not- I mean, I have no desire to leave, or find someone else, or whatever else you said in that rant of yours. All right?"

Kevin nods, mute.

"Now, since I've gotten all my... well. Not quite all, but... but I want to hear yours first."

"My- I'm sorry?"

"Your truths. What have you actually been thinking this whole time? What brought on that little temper tantrum?"

"Um..." Looking back, it probably was a little dramatic. "Okay, but I thought... I mean, I was really worried! I really w-, no, I want this."

"'This' being what, exactly?"

"'This' being..." Kevin gestures towards Connor, then throws his arm out to include the entire apartment. "This. All of this. But... but, more. You know."

"...I'm sorry, Kevin, but I really, really need you to put this into words."

Kevin huffs, feeling his cheeks start to burn. "I want... I want you, and me; and I want this to be home. Our home, for both of us. And... and the baby, too, if... if you ever change your mind."

That's the part he hasn't really thought about yet. _Do I really want to be a dad?_ He was serious, before; he can't keep his life together and would probably make an awful, terrible father. But, then again... Maybe with Connor, he wouldn't be so bad.

"You..." Connor looks just as shocked as Kevin feels. "You... ah, I... um..." But then he grins. "Are you serious?"

"Yes...?" That wasn't the reaction he was expecting, exactly; he looks really excited. "Is that... I'm sorry, I thought you weren't-"

He stops, frozen, as Connor throws his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "Oh gosh, Kevin, I never thought- I mean, I hoped, and I prayed about it but God never- this is just, wow, I can't- Kevin, you're so _wonderful_!"

Kevin can't move; Connor just pulls him even closer, swaying on his tiptoes. "Kevin, honestly, you have no idea how happy you just made me. You wonderful, thick-headed, self-obsessed... How did I ever do anything without you?"

Finally, Kevin manages to unstick his jaw. "Is this about the baby?" he asks, voice cracking.

"Yes!" Connor squeals. "I mean, yes, I must admit, I... I'm not nearly as opposed to the idea as I used to be. Of keeping it, that is. It's definitely something to keep under consideration." Even though his voice has gone back down, and he sounds like his normal, level-headed self, he hasn't let go.

"This feels really nice," Kevin admits, resting his head on Connor's shoulder. _Really, really nice._

Connor giggles. "Then why aren't you hugging back?"

So Kevin drops his bag, his hand aching as he finally releases the death grip he must have had on the handle, and tentatively wraps both arms around Connor.

It's painfully obvious how much taller he is than Connor, and that there's a baby bump between them, but other than that, Kevin decides he's never felt anything better in his life. He squeezes Connor, gently, and grins when Connor laughs.

"I want to pick you up," Kevin murmurs, "and swirl you around the apartment like we're dancing."

"Please don't," Connor replies. "I really don't want to get sick right now."

"Oh. Okay."

Maybe it should be awkward, just standing in the living room of the apartment they've shared for months, hugging for the first time, but it doesn't. It's not awkward, even when Connor pulls away, beaming up at him, and leads him to the kitchen so they can eat. It's not awkward when curl up together on the couch and put on _Cinderella_ , then _Beauty and the Beast_ , then the _Little Mermaid_ and they fall asleep to the tune of "Part of Your World".

It's not even awkward when Kevin wakes up with a sore neck and cold hands, because Connor's half slouched across his lap, red hair falling over his eyes, and the sweetest smile on his face, because _Connor doesn't hate him_. Connor _cares_ about him. Connor doesn't think he's broken.

Heavenly Father may not have answered his prayers the way he was expecting, but he's got Connor, and that's better than any divine revelation he's gotten before.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Connor and Kevin take two steps forward and one step back.

Now that _that_ ’s over with (and Kevin is really trying hard not to think about how he acted), Kevin finds himself touching Connor more often than not. He stops to wonder, one evening, as they’re curled up on the couch together, how he could have gone for so long without just wrapping Connor up in his arms, or even just touching his arm or something. The contact feels so natural, he’s not really sure how he’s lived without it. But that question, along with a good many others, is neatly filed away in a box in the back of his mind labelled **DO NOT TOUCH** , and so he ignores it. It’s easier that way, not to question things.

But his bad attitude is gone, and _everyone_ notices. Even his dad, who is notoriously blind to emotional stuff when at work. Kevin’s so happy that his mom calls him while on his lunch break one day to say that ‘they’ (meaning his parents) are worried about him, and has he noticed Connor slipping anything into his food recently? He just laughed and said that he’s looking forward to coming over for dinner on Sunday. He brings Connor, of course; the one (and only) time he’d ever not done that had ended with him being thoroughly scolded for leaving his partner at home. When he’d protested (and this was in the early days, at the end of summer), saying that Connor wasn’t his mate or even his _husband_ , for goodness’ sake, his dad had just levelled a stern glare at him and reminded him firmly that he had, in fact, knocked up a boy and that he needed to deal with the consequences.

So, long story short, Connor McKinley had sort of assimilated himself into the Price household, because of the family dinners and because there’s a pretty good bus route between the boys’ apartment and the Price’s house, with just enough walking involved for Connor to tolerate. He spends about a day a week there, other than Sundays, and those days are Kevin’s favorite; he doesn’t go to the apartment after work, and Connor doesn’t have to cook, and they can both feel a little like kids again as Mrs. Price fusses over them and gives them advice regarding the pregnancy that Kevin’s not entirely sure his siblings should be hearing. Not to mention, Connor likes playing with the kids, no matter how much he mock-complains at the end of the day.

Kevin’s starting to think that life isn’t actually as bad as he thought at first, and that trusting Heavenly Father is probably something he should have done from the start (considering how well it’s working out) when Connor casually mentions over his meatloaf and mashed potatoes that he was catcalled on the bus the previous morning.

“Excuse me?”

“What?”

“... could you please repeat that?”

Connor frowns, setting his fork down. “It was a lovely morning?”

“No, no, the other part.”

“Kevin, I don’t… oh! The comment that man made? It was nothing.”

“What did he say?” He says it as coldly as he knows how, and Connor goes a little pale.

“He… Kevin, I promise it wasn’t a big deal or anything. He just said I… looked nice. That’s all.”

“That’s not catcalling.”

“...no, I guess it’s not.”

“You called it catcalling. Were you lying?”

“No!” Connor cries, indignant, but then he bites his lip, caught between protesting his innocence and smoothing the whole thing over.

“What did he say, exactly?”

“Kevin, honestly, it was hours ago. I can’t remember _exactly_ what he said. I can hardly remember what I had for breakfast this morning!”

Kevin sighs. “Give me your best guess.”

“Well, I… I think it was, um, something along the lines of… uh, ‘hey, sexy. I’d tap that.’”

Connor looks down, red tinting his cheeks, but Kevin’s not about to let this go. “Is that all?”

Slowly, the redhead shakes his head. “He… he said some other things, but Kevin, really, it isn’t a big deal. It’s not like it happens all the time.”

“...this has happened before?”

Connor claps his hands over his mouth.

“Connor, why haven’t you told me about this?”

“It’s… it’s sort of an _omega_ thing. We’re not supposed to… well.”

 _What on earth…_ Kevin doesn’t even know what to think. Dinner forgotten, he shoves his plate away and folds his hands on the tabletop. “You’re not supposed to talk about it?”

Connor fidgets in his seat. “Well… technically, they _are_ compliments. I don’t get many compliments anymore, so… not that that’s a bad thing! I mean, I _am_ pregnant, so it’s completely understandable, but... “ he huffs, looking like he wants to roll his eyes and be done with the issue. “I don’t think it’s the sort of thing you would understand, Kevin.”

Well. “And you don’t want to try and explain it?”

“You’re an alpha,” Connor says apologetically. “It's just… it’s not really anything you should be concerned with.”

 _My… roommate is getting heckled on the street!_ he wants to retort. _Of course it’s something I should be concerned with._ But he takes a deep breath, bowing his head for just long enough to put on a blank face and pretend he’s got composure, then looks up at Connor with a smile. “Of course,” he says. “Whatever you say, Connor.”

Connor’s mouth hangs open for a good five seconds, at least. More like ten, actually. “What on _earth_ …” he stammers. “What are you... what was _that_?” He sounds vaguely disgusted, and Kevin chuckles.

“I’m just agreeing,” he says. “If you say it’s none of my business,” and boy, does it rake his pride over a bed of red-hot coals to say that, “then I won’t bother you about it.”

Connor’s eyes narrow. “Really.”

Kevin grins sunnily. “Really really.”

They continue dinner, talking pleasantly about everything except the catcalling incident, and Connor’s struck speechless again by Kevin offering to do the dishes. He accepts, of course, but Kevin can feel his curiosity even after he leaves the kitchen. The brunette smirks. If Connor thinks Kevin can’t understand his problems because he’s an alpha, he’ll just have to prove him wrong.

He starts by making breakfast for Connor, waking up before six to whip up eggs (not scrambled; he’s not ever going to forget that) and toast (but no bacon, it makes Connor nauseous) and mint tea. When Connor asks why he’s doing this, “because you know my birthday isn’t until April, right?” Kevin just smiles sweetly and replies “there’s a plate of leftovers in the fridge for lunch for you, Con.” The nickname earns him an unimpressed look, but he refuses to be cowed so early in his project. “I’ll see you later!” he chirps, waving farewell. “Oh, but Connor, I don’t want you to do a single chore today, okay? I’ll take care of them all tonight.”

He leaves, still beaming, before Connor can reply.

And he follows through on that, even though it’s almost ten o’clock by the time he finishes making and cleaning up from dinner (chicken noodle soup, because it’s relatively easy and something he couldn’t mess up if he tried), vacuuming the entire apartment, cleaning the bathroom, and moving around two full loads of laundry.

He collapses on the sofa as the clock strike ten, exactly, more exhausted than he wants to admit. _Thank goodness tomorrow’s Saturday_.

“What are you trying to prove?” Connor asks, coming to sit next to him. “That you can do everything I can and more? I didn’t know your ego needed that much stroking.” His words are cold and caustic; not really what Kevin was going for.

“This is not about my ego,” he protests, forcing himself to sit up. “This is about what you said yesterday.”

Connor raises one eyebrow. “I don’t recall complaining about chores to the extent that you’d take them all on yourself to avoid listening to me again.”

“No, no, the omega thing.”

“The what now?”

“You said I couldn’t understand because it’s an omega thing. So, I decided to show you that I could do whatever an omega can do.” Because there’s nothing that Kevin Price can’t understand. _Nothing._

“I’m sorry?” Connor’s brow is furrowed, and he looks genuinely baffled. Kevin doesn’t know why, though; his idea makes perfect sense, even looking back.

“I’m showing you that I can understand,” he says, leaning forward. He doesn’t take Connor’s hands, though, because this isn’t _that_ kind of understanding. This isn’t some gooey, emotional thing. This is Kevin trying to hear what other people had to say about his- about _Connor_ when they really shouldn’t have said anything at all. And if Connor had to think he understood to tell him, then Kevin was going to understand, dang it.

“Oh, Kevin…” Connor sighs, shaking his head. “It’s not like that. You can’t just understand after doing a day of chores. Not that I don’t appreciate the effort. That’s just… that’s not what I meant.”

 _Oh._ Fine, then. “What did you mean, then?”

“Kevin, honestly, just… just drop it, all right? It’s not a big deal. It was one man who was maybe a little out of line and said some things, okay? It’s nothing you have to prove yourself for.”

Kevin frowns, sitting back. _Well, that isn’t fair at all,_ he thinks. _Connor just doesn’t understand. I have to know this._ But, if the practical side of life as an omega isn’t the key to understanding, then is has to be something else. Kevin racks his brain before he runs into a realization like a brick wall. “Is it a sex thing?” he blurts out, looking over at Connor with wide eyes.

Connor must be getting sick of this, because he just shrugs and says “Sure, Kevin. It’s a sex thing. But really, if you’ll just give up alr-”

“I’ll do it.”

“...what?”

“I’ll do it,” Kevin repeats, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Intercourse is generally something that goes in the **DO NOT TOUCH** box, but if that’s what Connor wants… “It can’t be that bad, right? Just… letting you take control?” _That’s generally the idea, right? Letting Connor do to me what I did to him?_ He firmly ignores the long-forgotten images from that omega book he loaned from the library so long ago that remind him that there is _so_ much more to the world of alpha/omega relations, and the fact that they haven’t so much as kissed since the horrifying visit to the Denver Center. “You’ll be nice about it, right?”

Connor frowns. “Kevin, I’m afraid I don’t u- Oh my. _Oh_ , you think- you- I thought you- _Oh my_ , I _completely_ misinterpreted your question. Goodness gracious, Kevin, no! That’s not… my goodness, that’s not what I thought you meant at all!”

“It’s not?” _How many different meanings can the term ‘sex thing’ have?_ “What did you think I meant?”

“I thought you meant gender! How was I… I mean, _honestly_ , Kevin, suggesting we- that’s not right!”

 _Of course it isn’t_ is Kevin’s instinctual reaction, but he stops,  thinking it over quickly. While he personally isn’t jazzed by the idea of doing it, he thinks that probably has something more to do with his… what? His church training? His asexuality? His lack of an actual, proper relationship with Connor? Considering they’re living together, he doesn’t actually think that last one counts for too much. Maybe he’s just repulsed because of what happened at the Center. He’s heard it’s supposed to be much, much nicer than what happened there, and, well, at the end of the day… he trusts Connor. He trusts Connor to be gentle with him. He trusts Connor to make it nice. _Hypothetically, of course,_ he assures himself. _It’s not like he’s actually going to… well._  Should an alpha really be thinking these thoughts?

But Connor isn’t like him. Connor likes boys, and, if he’s not asexual, then that must mean that he’s, well, _sexual_. Which means, by default, that he wants sex. Kevin blushes a little at the crude thought, but, really, it must be true, and it’s definitely more natural than what Kevin doesn't want. So instead of just nodding, he takes a deep breath and asks “Why not?”

"...why not?" Connor echoes.

"That's what I said, yeah."

"...I don't see why I need to explain it; it's _clearly_ outside of the church's teachings."

"Well... pretend I'm not a Mormon. Pretend that I'm an atheist or something, and explain it to me."

"Kevin! There's nothing to explain! It's _wrong_ , pure and simple."

"What is?"

"Sex!" Connor hisses it, like it's a bad word.

"But it makes babies, and babies are blessings from Heavenly Father, right?"

"Yes, but sex is only acceptable under very particular circumstances," Connor explains, glancing around like God is going to strike him down for even talking about it. "You can't just _have_ it."

Kevin sits back, confused. "I thought you liked _it_."

That makes Connor blush, all the way up to the very tips of his ears peeking out from behind his hair. "That's not really the issue here, Kevin."

"I don't see why it isn't. You're old enough, and it's not like you want to do dirty things, really." Dirty things is sort of an ambiguous term, Kevin admits, but what else are married people supposed to do? It's not like babies come from _nothing_.

As Connor splutters, refusing to meet his eyes, Kevin is suddenly hit with the realization that, wow, this conversation is like the exact opposite of the one he and Connor had when they fought about how Kevin wasn’t a freak. Connor is ashamed, really, over something that he had no control over, because he thinks the church, that God Himself is against it. Kevin wants to laugh. He wants to show Connor how wrong that is; if it _is_ wrong, why would it be necessary? He sees the discrepancies clear as day, and he wants to see if Connor does to. But doubt is just another thing to stick in the box, and so he just puts away the idea that Heavenly Father might actually _approve_ and sticks to the matter at hand.

“Honestly, Connor, it’s kind of important that people do it, if only to keep having babies, you know.”

“But there’s sex and then there’s _sex_ , Kevin! There’s the good kind, the kind that Heavenly Father intended us to have, and then, then there’s everything else.”

 _What kind of stuff does he want to do?_ Kevin wonders, filled with morbid curiosity. But all he says is “If you’re talking about boys and boys, then… I mean, it can’t be that bad, because you can still have children. You told me that yourself, remember? It can’t be wrong if it does what it’s supposed to.”

“...well, yes, but what if... “ he stops, looking away, and Kevin can’t hold back anymore.

“What?” he asks. “What on earth do you want to do that could possibly be so bad?”

Connor doesn’t answer for a bit, his jaw awkwardly working like there are just too many words to choose from, but Kevin waits patiently. He’s not entirely sure how they got to this point but he’ll be darned if he stops without an answer now.

Finally, the hands of the clock inching towards 10:30, Connor whispers something unintelligible.

“What was that?” Kevin asks, leaning in.

“I… Goodness, Kevin, it’s just embarrassing, okay?”

“Is it as embarrassing as what I said, about… about letting you, well, you know, with me? Because if it isn’t, then I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

That, interestingly enough, seems to be what makes up Connor’s mind. “Well… that’s true, I guess. I just… would it really be so bad to, to try having… to doing, um, _things_ , with… with birth control?”

Kevin sits back, surprised. _Is that all?_ “Uh… I don’t think so. Why?”

But Connor glares at him, crossing his arms. “Everything you’ve said about sex being okay has to do with making babies. How is it okay if you’re very purposefully _not_ making babies?”

 _Oh._ “That… is a very good point.” So good, in fact, that for a minute Kevin doesn’t know how to reply. “Oh! Remember what you told me? About women and omegas who can’t have children? You said they’re people too, right? And they’re allowed to like _it_. Nobody’s going to say that they can’t enjoy it just because they can't reproduce.” Kevin smirks, proud of himself, but before Connor can even reply, he jumps up, excited. “And! _And_ , in 1 Corinthians, chapter 7, verse 3, Paul says ‘Let the husband render unto the wife due benevolence: and likewise also the wife unto the husband.’ So, ha! If somebody wants to do it, then it’s the other’s job to do it, too, and not just for making babies!”

For a moment, there’s silence; just Kevin standing, exultant, and Connor sitting, stunned, but then Connor hides his face in his hands. Kevin is worried, for just a second, and starts to reach out to him, but then he hears laughter, and Connor throws his head back in mirth.

“I can’t _believe_ this was a serious conversation!” he says, giggling. Kevin lets himself laugh, too; it is kind of funny that he was so ardently advocating for something that he himself doesn’t even really want. _Except kind of, maybe,_ he thinks, _I do._

 _Okay! That is_ definitely _going in the box._ He doesn’t even bother to think out its full name anymore.

“But seriously, Connor, what is it about omegas that I just can’t understand?” he asks, determinedly distracting himself from the thoughts that are definitively, firmly filed away in the box.

Connor’s laugh dies slowly. “It’s just… it’s just something that you’ll never be able to know, Kevin. It’s not your fault, but you… you’ve never been an omega. You’ll never be treated as an omega. It’s… it’s just… you can’t get it.”

Kevin scowls. _Oh, can’t I?_ “So that means you won’t even give me the chance to try?”

The redhead sighs, the last of his smile fading away. “No, that’s not… do you really want to hear what that man said?”

“Obviously.”

“All he said was what I told you, and that he’d be happy to have me keep his bed warm since some alpha didn’t think I was worth f- sleeping with twice.” Connor looks away, casually brushing at his shirt, but Kevin’s frozen. He knows that Connor wasn’t about to say ‘sleeping with’; he _heard_ that ‘f’, which means that either Connor has a lot more dirty mind that he thought, or the man actually said _that_ word to him. But, aside from that, even, he’s… horrified.

“People _say_ that?”

Connor stops, looking up at him with a bemused smile. “Of course they do, Kevin.”

“... but that’s horrible!” Boy, does Kevin feel awful for almost laughing at Connor earlier. Spluttering and stammering is _awful_.

But then Connor shrugs, _shrugs_ like it’s no big deal. “I’ve heard worse,” he says evenly.

“You’ve heard worse?” _How much worse could it get?_

“See, Kevin, this is what I meant; this is why you can’t understand. It’s… this is just something people like me have to deal with.”

“People like-” _omegas_. Kevin runs a hand through his hair. “Wow, um, okay. I was not expecting that.”

“Kevin, honey, really; this is not a big deal.”

 _Sure, sure, of course not. Of-frickin’-course not._ “...how did he know you weren’t mated, anyway?”

Connor actually does roll his eyes this time, and if they weren’t having a conversation like this, Kevin would laugh because _finally_ , he’s been waiting for _months_ ; and he says “There’s hardly any mated omegas who leave the house without their children or their mate, Kevin. And there’s the way I carry myself; it’s different for mated omegas. Not to mention…” and he tilts his head to expose his neck.

A feeling, one Kevin never thought he’d have to feel again, shoots through him, and he shifts in his seat. “What about it?”

“There’s no mating mark,” Connor says, straightening up. “No scar. It’s more visible than you’d think.”

“Wait… so, everybody knows when you’ve…?”

“Generally, yes, though it’s not polite to stare or blatantly look for it.” Connor’s hand comes up to rub against his neck, where the bond mark would be, and Kevin looks away. “Haven’t you ever noticed it on some of the women at church?”

“No, Connor, I don’t normally _look_ at the women at church.” Especially since almost all of them his age are married (betas) or mated (omegas). _Huh. There aren’t any female alphas at church, are there?_ Not that _that_ really matters. But then it hits him. “Oh my gosh, they’re all our age.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re not- I mean, we’re not weird at all. We’re not younger than any of them, we just… skipped a step in the whole mating-sleeping-baby cycle.” And by sleeping he means… well. But that’s not important. “And I thought we were still kids. We’re _supposed_ to be doing this. What…”

Conor doesn't seem to understand his predicament. "Kevin, are you all right?”

He laughs, falling back against the sofa. “I… um, I guess so. I just… do the girls have to hear what you do, too?”

Connor nods slowly. “Some of them, yes. I mean, my being male doesn’t exactly work in my favor, but all omegas are heckled at some point.”

“How can people even _know_? There’s no sure ways to tell except with testing.”

Connor blinks. “You’re not very observant, are you.”

“What? I am plenty observant, I’ll have you know-”

“No, no, I really don’t think you are. Did you seriously not know these things before I just now told you?”

“Not… really, no.” _Great, so it’s another one of_ those _things, one of the ones that I’m supposed to miraculously know by existing, apparently._ He’s really starting to hate those things.

But Connor doesn’t make a big deal out of it, like last time. He just smiles softly, and takes Kevin’s hand, and he says “You’re not at all what you look like, you know?”

“I’m not?” It’s fair to say Kevin’s never heard that one before.

“No. You look like you’re all strong and confident, and like you know exactly what you're doing, but… you really don't.”

“...thanks?” _That's not a compliment._

Connor giggles. “You’re welcome. Now, I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted from a full day of sitting around doing nothing, so I think it’s time for bed.” Slowly, laboriously, he pulls himself up from the sofa, still not letting go of Kevin’s hand. “You too, mister,” he says, tugging lightly. “You worked hard today.”

Kevin stands silently, following as Connor drags them off towards the bedrooms. But he stops in the hallway between them, keeping his grip firm when Connor tries to pull away.

“I can’t believe you go through that,” he says, still a little numb from what he’s heard. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”

Connor smiles. “It’s really not as bad as it sounds. It’s just words, right?”

But he doesn’t say they’re not true.

Kevin nods, yawning. It’s almost eleven, now, but he doesn’t really want to go to bed. Not yet. _I’ve got a lot to think about._

“Um… Kevin?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you planning on letting go of my hand anytime soon?”

“Oh,” he replies articulately, looking down at where his fingers are entwined with Connor’s. Their hands don’t match; Kevin’s are bigger, with larger fingers and more golden skin, while Connor’s have long, slim digits, and redness around the knuckles. But they still look nice together. A sort of opposites attract thing, he guesses.

“...Kevin?”

“What? Oh. No, I don’t think so, actually.”

“Kevin, we really need to get some sleep.”

“I know.”

“... so you need to let go.”

“But I don’t want to.” And no, he does _not_ whine, he’ll have you know.

“Kevin, we have to get some sleep. There’s that event I promised I’d help your mother with and we have to get going bef-”

“Come sleep with me.”

“-ore… what?”

Connor looks up at him, eyes wide with shock, and Kevin smiles. He likes surprising Connor; it does nice things to his face.

“Come and sleep in my bed tonight.”

“Kevin, I… we can’t do that.”

“Why not? It’s not like anything we haven't done worse."

He means it well, but it’s definitely the wrong thing to say. Connor blinks, and the wide-eyed, open look is gone. He pulls his hand away, nodding sharply.

“Goodnight, Kevin.”

And then Kevin’s left alone, standing in the hallway, as Connor turns and goes into his bedroom, shutting the door without a moment’s hesitation. It’s a long time before he can make himself turn away.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which something goes right, and then something goes very, very wrong.

"O. M. Gosh!"

Kevin is jerked awake, sitting up before he even knows he's moved. "Connor?" he says. He stumbles out of bed, to the doorway, calling out roughly. "Connor, what's wrong?" The hallway is dark, but there's a faint light coming from Connor's room and he heads there, heart pounding in his chest.

But then the door is flung open and Connor bursts out, throwing himself at Kevin. "Oh my gosh, Kevin, I got it! Can you believe I actually- Oh, Kevin, it's... I never thought I would actually, because they're not exactly- but I did! I got it! They're going to let me!"

Connor babbles on as Kevin, thoroughly woken up now, fights to keep them both upright against the hallway wall. "Connor, I don't... What are you talking about?" He hugs the other boy close to him, trying to keep his balance, but Connor clutches at him, laughing joyfully in his ear, like he doesn't mind in the least. 

"Kevin, I got a job!"

"... you were looking for a job?" Kevin pushes Connor away, finally standing straight, and looks down at him with a frown. "Why were you looking for a job?" He really shouldn't be hurt at all, he knows, but He can't help it. Connor didn't even tell him about it, and an alpha is supposed to provide for his family. _Right?_  Kevin's not sure he can be rational at this time of night. 

Connor is still smiling, though, quickly running a hand through his hair as he answers "Well, it's a bit boring just sitting around here all day without anything to do, and, once the baby's born, I'll need _something_ to do."

"So... you got a job." _That makes sense, I guess,_ Kevin's tired brain thinks. But he knows there's something missing from that equation, and his brow furrows in concentration.

"Are you... do you not... I mean, you'll let me, right?" Connor asks, his jubilant smile starting to fade. "You don't mind too much, do you?"

"What?" _Oh! Connor thinks I'm mad at him._ He laughs. "No, yeah, you... yes. Good for you." _  
_

"You really think so?" Connor asks. He looks up at Kevin tentatively, wringing his hands.

Kevin decides he likes excited Connor better.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think... yes, it's definitely good. I'm happy for you."

Connor blinks.

"What, uh, is the job, though? I don't think you said." _He didn't, right? Man, I am having a hard time focusing._

"Oh!" _There we go._ Connor looks much happier now. _Awesome._ "It's a teaching position, at the rec center. I'll get to teach little kids to dance!" And he actually _claps_ , bouncing on his toes, and he's just so _excited_.

"I'm so proud of you," he says, scooping Connor up into his arms. And he is, he really is, for how... how _incredible_ he's been, through this whole thing. If Kevin were more awake, maybe, he would just smile and let him talk, but he's not, and here they are, and he's not letting go.

Connor looks up, lips parted to say something, perhaps, but he doesn't say a thing. His gaze sweeps over Kevin's face, like he's looking for something, and he nods, and then-

It only lasts for a second. Kevin wouldn't believe that it had happened at all, except that Connor's looking away, and even in the dim light from Connor's room he can see that he's blushing to the roots of his hair. And... well, he's... his; Kevin's, that is; his lips are _tingling_.

"Was... was that-" he can't lift his voice above a whisper, but Connor nods anyway.

Kevin almost drops him in surprise. "Wow," he says, breathless. "You... okay." His grip on Connor loosens as he sets him back on the floor, but he doesn't let go. His hands slide up from Connor's hips to caress his cheeks, and, gently he tilts Connor's face up; their eyes meet.

"Can I...?" Kevin asks, his gaze flickering down to Connor's lips. They're parted again, barely, and Connor sighs, the too-strong minty scent of toothpaste on his breath. He nods, and Kevin leans in.

He stops, though, resting his forehead against Connor's. He chuckles, closing his eyes. "We're really doing this?" he asks; Connor will know what he means.

"If you..." Connor starts to reply, but then he stops, and Kevin feels him shake his head, just a fraction of an inch. "Yes," Connor says, just above a whisper. "Yes, we are."

And Kevin kisses him, as tenderly as he can. There's a moment where he feels like he's fumbling, that he did something wrong, that this will never work, but then... Connor pushes back, somehow, and everything rights itself in a way it never has before.

 _I'm doing this_ , he thinks. _I'm kissing Connor McKinley._ If it wouldn't break the kiss, he'd grin.

He tries to pour his joy into it, instead, which is sort of a balancing act since it has to be sweet, and he has to be careful, oh so careful, because this is _Connor_ , and he's a _boy_ but there's something in his chest that's finally settled, a gap that's being filled for the first time in months, and there's still a baby involved, painfully obvious in the bump of Connor's stomach pressed between them, and what if he does something else to mess this up? But Connor seems to get it, get _everything_ , every thought whirling around in Kevin's mind and every feeling in his heart, and he tilts his head to bring them even closer together and _that_ is the most wonderful thing Kevin's ever felt in his life.

They break apart, gasping, a moment later, and Connor steps back, taking Kevin's hands in his own as they fall.

"It's late," he says breathlessly. "We should go to bed."

Kevin is struck with how small he is, then. His hands can barely hold Kevin's in their grip. It's a weird thing to notice, but it's true. There's something endearing about it, and he's hit by the sudden urge to protect him, to keep him safe from everything that could happen, that has happened. He's felt it before, in smaller ways, sharper ways, but now...

He nods, and Connor drops his hands.

"We'll talk tomorrow," Connor says, before turning and walking slowly back to his room.

"Goodnight," Kevin calls, softly, as soon as his brain can think in words again.

Connor turns back and smiles at him. "Goodnight." And then, he's gone.

*****

If he's being honest, Kevin's brain is not exactly up to scratch first thing in the morning, so when he wakes up with a... a _problem_ , of the sort Connor talked about weeks before, it takes him a minute to remember that _that_ sort of thing is, for most people, normal. Not that it's anymore right because of that, but it isn't anything to freak out about.

That little incident does, unfortunately, completely dominate his thoughts, however, so when Connor faces him expectantly as he emerges from the bathroom, his first thought is that Connor must somehow _know_.

"Um," he says eloquently, face burning, and he has to actively resist the urge to cover his crotch with his hands.

"Oh goodness, please don't tell me you regret it now," Connor says, crossing his arms. "I knew I shouldn't have... well. It's too late now."

"Too- what?" And then the events of last night come flooding back and one hand immediately flies up to tentatively brush his lips as if _it_ just happened, instead of hours ago. "Oh!"

"Yes, oh," Connor comments, turning back to the stove. "We do need to talk about that, you know."

"What? Yes, of course. Um, just... what do we need to talk about, exactly?" Because while Kevin could probably come up with a tolerably good description of how it had felt on the fly, it would be nice to have some preparation time, just in case.

"Well... everything, really." _That... is incredibly unhelpful._ All right.  

"Okay, that's fine, but... can we pick one thing to start with?"

Connor sighs, setting two plates down on the tiny kitchen table. "My job."

"Okay?" _What about it? I think it's awesome for you, he thinks,_ sitting down. But then he remembers his vague feeling of something being forgotten from the night before, and this time he knows what it's about. "Oh! The baby!"

Connor frowns, sitting down across from him. "I fail to see... but that brings up a good point. I probably should have started with that. Kevin, I... are we really... I mean, we certainly don't have to decide right now, but we should start considering what, um, what course of action we plan to take and this does need to be discussed, no matter how... distasteful it may seem. All right?"

"Hold on," Kevin says, half-joking, "there were a lot of 'we's in that sentence and I need a minute to process."

Connor snorts, picking up his mug of mint tea. "Well, we did... This is our baby. Like it or not, we're in this together."

Kevin smiles. "Are you talking about keeping the baby?"

Connor freezes. "I... I don't- uh, yes, that is the... the topic of conversation. I'd like to hear your viewpoint, since any decision on my part will need your approval."

Kevin blinks. _That's it!_ Normally, he hates leaving doors open like that, and control is... well, he does enjoy having it, but last night, he trusted Connor, and he trusts him now, and he knows exactly what to give him in return for initiating, for trusting him with... what happened. "My viewpoint is whatever you want it to be."

"Excuse me?"

"Whatever you want me to do, or say, or sign, I'll do it." He doesn't want to give up the baby, but he's also not an idiot: he can't, he _won't_ raise a baby alone, and if Connor doesn't want to give parenting a shot, then he's not going to fight with him about it. "I want whatever you want."

Connor's gaping, his mug held with tightly clenched fingers, and Kevin hesitantly reaches across to lower it to the tabletop.

And Connor ducks his head, shaking it as if to clear it. "What if I say I don't want to decide right now?" he ventures.

"Then... then it's still your decision. Whenever you decide to make it." Kevin shifts in his seat; he doesn't particularly _like_ giving up all choice in the matter, but, no matter what, the baby will live, and that's... that has to be enough. If there's anything he can give to Connor, to help make up for... no. It's not... it shouldn't be a problem of guilt. They don't owe each other. This is about Connor being equal to him. _He's the one carrying the baby; it's his choice what he does with it._

He notices then that Connor's watching him, eyes narrowed, but he just says "if you say so," and sips from his mug elegantly. "By the way," he adds, "if we do keep it, the rec center provides child care free for its employees, so that won't be a problem."

"Oh," Kevin replies, "okay." _That has to be good, right?_  He seriously hopes so.

"But Kevin, we... we really do need to talk."

Kevin frowns. _That's, what, the third time he's said that this morning?_ "Why? What do we so desperately need to 'talk' about?"

Connor looks vaguely pained. "We _kissed_ , Kevin. That's not something to be taken lightly."

"No, of course not, but I asked you... I mean, you did understand, right?"

"I... maybe our understandings were different."

 _Really?_ "Do you really think that? Because I'm pretty sure that you knew exactly what I was asking."

Connor doesn't reply.

"That's why you said 'yes', instead of whatever else you were going to say. You _know_. Why do you want everything to be in words all the time? I meant it, I promise. I still mean it. I'm not going to just..." _I don't even know what he's looking for right now._ Kevin doesn't like this conversation.

"Kevin, just... I said 'yes', all right, but that doesn't... I want to know what I said 'yes' to! Is that a _sin_ in your book?" And then he goes white as paper, clapping one hand over his mouth.

"...Connor?" Kevin leans towards him, concerned. "Are you... is something wrong?"

He just sits there, frozen.

"Connor, are you okay? Are you in pain or anything? Is it... the baby?"

Barely moving at all, Connor shakes his head, but Kevin is still worried. His eyes are wide, but it's not in surprise or excitement like it's been recently. They are blank, empty, and... horrified.

"Connor, what's wrong." Kevin demands. He takes his free hand, squeezing firmly. Connor isn't supposed to look like this; he isn't supposed to be so still. It's scary.

He still doesn't respond.

Kevin tries to take deep breaths. What can he do? He briefly considers slapping him before he recoils at the very thought. But, if he can't, what is he supposed to do? Connor's not responding, and he _doesn't know why._ He has to do _something._

"Connor, if you don't do something I'm going to have to call somebody." Who, he has no clue. Connor already said he's not in pain or danger, and he's awake, so he can't call 911. But maybe he could call his mom and ask for her advice. She might know what to do. "I'm gonna go get my phone, okay? I'm just going to call my mom, and have her talk to you."

But that's the thing that breaks Connor out of his trance, apparently. He blinks, and puts his hand down, and smiles, and says "Oh, that's right. I promised your mother I'd go help her with that event for the ward today. What time is it? We're supposed to be there by nine-thirty."

"What?"

"Kevin, we have to go!" And Connor stands, neatly pushing his chair back under the table and scooping up their uneaten breakfasts, taking them back to the kitchen.

"Connor, what was that?"

"What was what, Kevin? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." He says it pleasantly, almost sweetly, and Kevin's really scared now.

"I thought you said we needed to talk."

"Well, perhaps I changed my mind. Like you said, why should I need to have everything said clearly? It's really not important."

It's too light, too careless. Connor likes having things make sense, almost more than Kevin does. _This isn't right._

"Connor, what's wrong?"

Connor doesn't stop neatly saran-wrapping the full plates of food and sliding them into the fridge. "There's nothing wrong, Kevin."

"Then what... why are you acting like this?"

And Connor actually lowers his gaze, and drops his shoulders, and goes _submissive_. "I apologize; is it not proper enough?"

"What on earth... What the heck are you doing?"

"I'm sorry if my behavior in the past has been too forward, Kevin. I'll be sure to rectify that in the future."

Kevin's left gaping as his... what are they, even? his Connor, normally a little fiery and independent, or at least his own person, drops every bit of that, taking on the posture of a... a proper omega.

And Kevin sort of gets it, he thinks.  _It has to be something with his gender; he's... something caused him to... but why? I didn't ask for this, and he certainly hasn't had a problem not being like a normal omega before now. Why is he doing this?_

"May I go to my room now?" Connor asks meekly. "I would like to get dressed for your mother's event, unless you would rather have me go like this." 'Like this' is barefoot, in a pink tank top sort of thing and, yep, a pair of Kevin's sweatpants; there's no way Connor could want to go outside in pajamas like that.

"...yeah," Kevin finally says. "You can... go get changed, I guess."

"Thank you, s- Kevin," he says, nodding, and then he turns and goes to his room. He didn't meet Kevin's eyes once after his trance.

*****

"Kevin, son, maybe this is a good thing," Mrs. Price says, resting a reassuring hand on his arm. "I didn't want to say anything, because he _is_ your omega and your home is your business, but whenever you two would come over, his behavior was a little... childish. From what you said, it sounds like he's growing up, and realizing his place in the church, and in your household." She looks over to where Connor is standing behind the snack table for the wives' and mates' conference, cheerfully serving cookies and tea to the guests milling around. "Look, he seems happy enough now. I really don't know why you're worried."

Kevin opens his mouth to reply, but then the microphone crackles and a large older woman steps up on the platform at the front.

"It's time for you to go now," Mrs. Price says, firmly guiding him to the door. "No alphas allowed, dear. We can talk more later."

As soon as he's forced out into the hallway, the door to the sanctuary closing with a bang, Kevin makes a beeline for the temple library. He hasn't been there in years, but if what his mom said is true, then there'll be some sort of information there on being a biblical omega that he can check.

He really, really hopes that that isn't the case, and he really doesn't want to think about why he does.

There's no one in the room when he walks in, and he goes straight to the reference section. There at eye level is a shelf for alphas, and he winces at the images of muscular men holding their flimsy little omega mates close that are plastered across the front covers. Beneath it, though, is the shelf for omegas. All the books there are pastel and cutesy, with flowers and lace and little baby footprints everywhere, but there, right about in the middle, is the perfect book: _God's Will for Omegas_. He picks it up, frowning at the picture of a pregnant woman, smiling, with a baby in her arms, accompanying the biography on the back. _What does she know about Connor, anyway?_

But he opens it, skimming through the introduction. There's lots of niceties, and sweet lines about divine purpose and childrearing, but then, near the end, is a handy little list in bullet points. At the top is a title, Biblical Omega Values, and Kevin knows he's found what he needs.

"Obedience," he mutters, "service, generosity, loyalty, devotion, and love. These are the focus of an omega, the purpose of her life. God has planted in us a desire to strive for these things in ourselves, and to give them to our alphas. This is what you were designed to be, to crave. This is your purpose."

There's a chapter on each of the virtues, and then Kevin finds a chapter on applications. It talks about pregnancy, and how a family life, devoted to raising children and supporting a husband to grow in God, is the highest good an omega can achieve. It talks about complete and total submission, in every way, to the head of household; it says that "an omega is worth nothing unless she follows the rules of Heavenly Father and her alpha. Your decisions are useless on their own. It's better to trust and obey; Heavenly Father's love will protect and sustain you through whatever life can throw your way," and that's when Kevin has to actually throw the book away, tossing it to the floor and storming off down the hallway. He doesn't stop until he finds himself outside, the bitingly cold wind December wind stealing his breath away.

He wants to scream, to just throw back his head and demand Heavenly Father tell him why He's doing this. _Why are omegas only supposed to be that way? Why can't they just be like other people? This isn't fair!_

And if there's one good thing Kevin can say about himself, it's that he wants things to be fair.

He sits on a bench outside, alone, for a while, watching little snow flurries collect against the wall of the temple. He hates being alone, but right now he's not sure he could handle being around anyone else, at least not anyone of the sort who would say that Connor's probably just fine and why are you worrying, Kevin?

 _It's not him,_ he retorts. _This isn't right; he's not usually like this._

_He's not usually an omega._

_He's Connor, and I want him to act like it._

_I want Connor back._


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys celebrate Christmas together.

But Heavenly Father apparently doesn't listen to Kevin's prayers. That, or Connor's behavior actually is right, and Kevin's wrong; but that can't possibly be true, because the following December is the absolute worst month of Kevin's life.

As a kid, he'd always scoffed when he heard ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’, but now, with Connor being so distant and unlike himself, the saying’s truth is painfully obvious. A hundred times of day he finds himself thinking _Oh, Connor would like this,_ or _I should ask Connor about that_ , or, one memorable occasion, _would Connor be up for_ that _?_ Each and every time, he has to remind himself that Connor isn’t exactly… available, and that he won’t be able to share any of it with him.

He tried, one Wednesday, to have a movie night again, calling from the back on his memory what Connor has said his favorite movie was; it had taken a good half-hour of comparing films with the underaged kid who worked at the movie rental place to actually find the darn thing, but eventually he found _The Truman Show_ , and brought it home for the evening. "Connor?" he called cheerfully, striding into kitchen, "do you want to watch a movie?"

Connor had barely said anything, only replying with “Whatever you want, Kevin.”

"Great, because I found your favorite!" Ignoring Connor's lack of enthusiasm, Kevin had pulled him to the living room and immediately put the movie in, dragging both of them to the couch. It was a very grown-up movie, but Kevin had mostly managed to pay attention. The movie wasn't really his endgame, though; about halfway through, when Truman looked at the wedding picture, he had taken Connor's hand. Connor had tensed up, but hadn't pushed him away or looked away from the screen, so when Truman boarded the bus for Chicago, he stretched his free arm up and around Connor's shoulders.

"Do you mind?" he asked. Connor hadn't responded.

And then, finally, as Truman stepped out of the door and Sylvia ran to meet him, Kevin had gently turned Connor turned him, leaning in for a kiss.

"Kevin, n-"

"What?" He stopped, their lips only inches apart.

"Nothing." Connor had just dropped his gaze, waiting.

"Do you... do you not want to?" Kevin asked.

Connor closed his eyes, and only because he's holding his hand does Kevin feel him shudder. "Whatever you want, Kevin."

Kevin hadn’t wanted to hear his name from Connor’s lips for a while after that.

The passive, apathetic person who's taken Connor’s place is painful to be around, now, and instead of working harder as the day wears on, guaranteeing that he’ll be able to leave on time and go home, Kevin finds himself looking for extra work to keep him at the office later. He takes the scenic route back, and doesn't normally arrive until well after seven, most nights. But, no matter what time he comes home, Connor always has dinner waiting, and he’s standing obediently by the table, waiting for Kevin’s permission to sit and eat.

That’s another thing about this whole mess that Kevin can’t stand: Connor won’t do a thing without Kevin saying it’s okay. He asks for permission to sleep, to sit, to get a drink of water, to go to the bathroom; Kevin even has to remember to tell him to eat lunch every day, over text. He didn’t for a day or two, and then Connor almost passed out over dinner and Kevin had learned that he wasn’t eating because “you never said it was all right; I didn’t want to disobey your orders.”

Kevin had yelled at him for that, and regretting it immediately when Connor wouldn’t even look up from the floor for the next three days.

But Kevin, darn his optimism, keeps hoping that each day, when he comes home, that Connor will greet him with something sarcastic, or say that they need something and “Honestly, Kevin, you can’t just go to the grocery store without a list! No wonder you keep forgetting things,”; he keeps hoping that Connor will make his decision about the baby and that he’ll say yes, or that things will go back to how they were, because even not knowing whether it was going to last is better than living with Connor’s ghost.

He takes up the habit of going to department stores, just to be around people who are alive and loud and not ready to crawl on the ground if he asks for it, and time after time he finds himself going to the omega section and picking up things for Connor. From there he goes to the section for baby things, and as the week of Christmas rolls around he finds the back of his car filled with things he doesn't even know if Connor will take. But Kevin refuses to give up, so he wraps every single item, and after work the Wednesday before Christmas he goes and buys a tree and some generic ornaments and a CD of Christmas hymns, and he hauls them all up the stairs, taking four trips to get everything. Each time Connor asks if Kevin would rather have him do it, but Kevin won't even let him finish his sentence.

"We're going to have a good Christmas," he says, "and, dang it, I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want."

So Connor sits on the sofa, watching with wide eyes as Kevin gets pine needles all over the floor to the tune of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir's "O Holy Night".

"Would you like to help me decorate the tree?" he asks, though, once everything's set up and he's sure that the tree won't fall down this time, and Connor nods.

Kevin barely breathes as Connor stands up, taking an ornament with trembling hands, and starts decorating. He doesn't dare hope for a smile or a joke, but halfway through Connor starts humming Silent Night along with the CD, and that's close enough that he dares to think that maybe, Connor will talk to him for Christmas.

When Kevin stops working, though, Connor seems to snap out of it, immediately dropping his shoulders and looking down again.

“I… uh, I’m going to make some hot chocolate,” Kevin says. “Do you want any?”

“Oh, no, I can do it,” Connor replies, wringing his hands. “You’ve let me do too little today, anyway.”

“Connor, no, I just said I’d make it. You don’t have to do it.”

“But you’ve had a long day at work, and I’m the omega; it’s my job to-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Connor. Just let me do this for you, okay?”

And Connor finally looks up. “Kevin, please.” It’s not a question.

“...fine.” And then, finally, Connor smiles, before scurrying off to the kitchen.

*****

But Christmas is when Kevin snaps.

He wakes up, determined to make Connor happy all day, and comes out of his room to find him waiting patiently in front of the tree, in the dark. _I guess I forgot to say it’s okay to turn the lights on,_ he thinks, bitterly.

“Gosh, aren’t you freezing?” Kevin asks, flipping the switch for the fire and heading to the kitchen to heat up water for tea. “And hey, do you want some of that Christmas tea I got the other day?”

“That would be fine, Kevin,” he mumbles, unmoving.

Kevin sighs, pulling two mugs down from the cabinet. “Hey, Connor?”

“Yes, Kevin?”

“Will you do anything I ask you to?”

“Y- as long as it doesn’t conflict with Heavenly Father’s will.”

 _That can’t possibly be a problem._ “Then… if I ask you to be happy today, will you do that?”

“I will do my best to please you, Kevin.”

He slams the mug down a little too hard, and he sees Connor jump from the living room. “Fine. Okay.”

Once the tea is made, Kevin’s temper is under control again, and they’re both settled in around the tree, Connor starts sorting the presents out by name. At the fourth gift with his name on it, he looks up at Kevin, his expression honestly confused.

“Um, Kevin, m- may I ask why so many of these are for me?”

Kevin looks up from over his tea. “Who’d you think they were for?”

“I… I thought they were for your family.”

It’s only with effort that Kevin keeps himself from saying something as incredibly cheesy as ‘you’re my family now’, but he almost slaps himself for even thinking it. “Yeah, well, those presents are in the car.”

“So… so, all of these, they’re all… mine?”

“Yeah. That’s okay, right?” Connor looks more worried than happy, so maybe it isn’t.

“Whatever you think best, Kevin.”

Kevin sighs into his mug. “Okay. Just, open a couple, will you? I want to see what you think of the stuff." _Like the baby clothes. And... the bottles. And the blanket. And the little bunny pacifiers. And everything else that I probably shouldn't have bought but at least I saved the receipts for._

So Connor docilely takes one of the smaller packages onto his lap, neatly unsticking the tape at both ends before unwrapping the paper without a single tear. He stops, though, when he sees what's in the box before him, and Kevin cranes his neck to see.

"Oh. Yeah, those. Um... I really have no explanation that'll be better than... yeah."

Without saying a word, Connor picks up the box, opening and pulling out the booties inside. They're sunshine yellow, and seriously the smallest pair of shoes Kevin's ever seen in his life. But there's little smiling umbrellas printed across the toes, with raindrop buttons, and really, he couldn't not buy shoes that frickin' cute.

But booties... there's only one message that booties could send, and Kevin doesn't really know if he wants to find out what Connor's reaction is yet.

He just holds them for a minute, though, looking at them blankly, before putting them down and walking to the other side of the tree. When he comes back, he's holding a package, with Kevin's name written across it in sharpie.

"It's not... I mean, I just..." he says, quietly. "I hope you like it."

"Oh. Thank you," Kevin says, trying to not look too eager. He's got a feeling that whatever he's holding is the thing Connor didn't want him to see at Macy's, and he's a little excited to finally see what it is.

It turns out to not be just a thing. There's multiple things, laid out in a box from, yep, Macy's. The first one is a t-shirt, and Kevin is mildly disappointed until he sees that it's blue because Cinderella is dancing across it, and in her skirt is a picture of the almost-kiss in the garden, and in floaty font across the bottom are the words 'So this is love...' He looks up at Connor, eyes wide, and asks "How did you... Cinderella's my favorite. How did you know?"

Connor blushes, ducking his head. "You... you told me, when I... when you were distracting me. Back at the center."

 _I can't believe he remembered._ And maybe it's stupid. He's a nineteen year old alpha who likes Cinderella, for goodness' sake, but... but the design is really, really beautiful, and Connor _remembered_.

Next is another t-shirt, but this one has a print like Hercules' chest, and Kevin laughs before shucking his pajama top and slipping it on.

"What do you think?" he asks, grinning at Connor. "'Looks to me like what you folks need is a hero!'" he quotes, mock flexing.

Connor almost smiles. "There's... there's one more thing in there," he mumbles, wringing his hands again. "It's really... I mean, even for me it's stupid, but I thought you might-" and Kevin laughs, delighted, because Connor bought him a _tiara_.

"Oh my gosh, is this seriously Cinderella's tiara?" he asks, holding the plastic crown reverently.

Connor nods, fighting a smile, and Kevin can't resist running to the bathroom and trying it on in the mirror. "Wow, it looks awesome!" he says admiringly. Because _man_ , does he look good in Disney.

He keeps it on for the rest of the morning, as Connor opens box after bag after poorly wrapped thingamabob of baby stuff and clothes. Connor doesn't seem to care too much for the adult clothes until he sees the size of one of the pairs of pants and he looks up at Kevin in surprise.

"These aren't omega clothes," he says questioningly. "They're not maternity wear?"

"Well, no; you're going to need clothes for after, right? Especially if you're going to take that teaching job."

Connor stares up at him with wide eyes, and it's like old times all over again. Except he doesn't say much, after that, and he dismisses himself to go get dressed for the drive over to the Price's for Christmas dinner, without Kevin's permission.

Kevin is actually kind of happy about that until he goes to Connor's door, fist poised to knock, and he hears from the other side "Turn it off, McKinley!"

There's a groan of frustration, too, but then... yes, he remembers that sound; it's a sob. Connor's just as miserable with this whole thing as he is.

So he's extra cheery when he finally does knock, complimenting Connor's very put-together outfit (a soft navy sweater with khakis, which looks strikingly neat when paired with Kevin's Hercules t-shirt and plaid Christmas-colored pajama pants) and coaxing him into singing along to 'Jingle Bells' on the radio.

Kevin's seen the light at the end of the tunnel, now, and he knows that if Connor won't let himself be happy for whatever reason, he'll just have to make him so, the best ways he can.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which decisions are made.

"Hey, Connor, do you wanna go shopping tomorrow?"  

Connor pauses, a forkful of mashed potatoes lifted halfway to his mouth. "I... what?"

 _Hey, a 'what' is better than 'whatever you say,_ _Kevin_ ', Kevin thinks optimistically. "There's a lot of after-Christmas sales going on; do you wanna go get some more stuff?" His credit card bill isn't going to love him, but sales are beautiful things. And, hey, they had fun when they went shopping that one time, right?

But Connor looks down at his plate, brow furrowed, and says "If you want, Kevin."

Kevin sighs. "No, no, if _you_ want. If you don't want to, then, fine, whatever, it doesn't matter." Even though Kevin wasn't expecting a genuine reaction, he still hoped for something a little more enthusiastic than this. "Don't you want to?"

"I want whatever you want, Kevin."

Now it's Kevin turn to frown, and he sits back in contemplation.  _He looks way too sad for this to just be 'I don't want to go shopping'._

"What's wrong, Connor?"

"Nothing, Kevin. I am perfectly fine."

“No, honestly, what’s the matter? I just wanted to get stuff for you; is that really a bad thing?”

“I just- no, it isn’t my place to say.”

 _Why won't he just give me a straight answer? It's shopping, for goodness' sake; it's not a life or death decision._ But he's got a trick up his sleeve, and even though he probably should save it for something more important he's had it up to _here_ with this passive aggressive crap.

“You said you’d do whatever I say, right?" he asks, and Connor chances a glance up at him.

"...I did."

Kevin smiles, satisfied. "Then tell me why it’s bothering you.”

Connor swallows, caught. “Oh. I… I just… financially speaking, there’s a lot that… I mean, I wouldn’t want to… to burden you.”

Kevin rolls his eyes before he remembers he's not allowed to. _Really? Money?_ That _'s what he's worried about?_ “Okay, first off, half of this stuff we really need anyway. Second, remember the subsidy you told me about? Yeah, applied, got it, we’re all good there; third, Christmas bonuses are really nice when your boss is your dad.”

He stops, then, hesitating when he thinks about the real reason he's allowing himself to splurge on stuff for Connor. _Maybe I should tell him… It’s been a while since- I mean, how angry could he really be? With this new omega thing, maybe he wouldn’t be angry at all._ “And, the Center gave us some money for stuff like this.”

The color drains from Connor's cheeks, and Kevin feels sick to his stomach. “They did?” he asks, and Kevin winces.  _I shouldn't have said that._

“...didn’t they give you something?” he asks, even though he knows the answer.  _Obviously it wouldn’t be enough to help, because he still had to live on the streets, but they should have given him a little. A monthly allowance to help out with the baby, maybe._

He can hear a trace of Connor’s old fire when the boy replies “Not a dime.”

“Not a- seriously?”

“How much did they pay you?”

Kevin feels suddenly sheepish. “It’s, uh… ten thousand dollars.”

Connor doesn’t reply for a second; the only sound in the entire apartment is the soft hiss of the air conditioning. His expression is blank, but not empty, and Kevin realizes with sudden terror that, whatever has been building between them since that wonderful, horrible first kiss is coming to a head right now. His panic isn't alleviated at all by the sight of Connor's knuckles going white as his hands clench into fists, and he struggles to breath for a second.  _What, now? It can't be, not yet. I'm not ready!_   _There's got to be some way I can stop this, or, or postpone it or something! I'm not ready to- what if I say something wrong? What if it's-_

“You were paid ten thousand dollars.” It's too late.

“...yeah. But, Connor, if… I only spent it on you, I promise. I can give you your half, if you want-”

“I don’t want it!” he yells, actually _yells_ , jumping up and rounding on Kevin. “It’s not for me! It’s not mine!”

Kevin tries one more time to head things off, desperate for a way around this fight. “Well, I mean, we both-”

“Yes, we were both _involved_ , but none of that money was for me!" Connor interrupts, eyes flashing. "They didn’t pay me a cent, Kevin, and you know what that money was for?”

At least that's a question he can answer. “I guessed it was to help take care of you.”

“...yes,” Connor says softly, sitting back down. “That’s exactly what it was for. They never… I was always supposed to… there’s no way I…” He buries his head in his hands, and... and it’s the first time Kevin’s actually seen him bend under the weight of everything. If Kevin were prone to profanity, he'd be sorely tempted to use some right now. “I was right the first time. I was always meant to be trapped.”

“Hey, no, that’s not-”

“Don’t tell me what it wasn’t, Kevin! You, you kept this from me for… for six months! It’s been six months, and you never… I actually believed that maybe…”

Kevin slowly sets his fork down, reaching out towards Connor reassuringly. “Okay, I know I shouldn’t have… I should have told you, but… I honestly didn’t think about how this looked from your point of view." He tries for soothing and falls somewhere closer to patronizing. "I would have told you before, if I had known.” _I promise, Connor. I'm on your side._ _  
_

“But it wouldn’t have mattered,” Connor says miserably. “None of that would have made any difference.”

“Why-”

“There was never any version of this that I get out all right, Kevin. If I had never tried for the surgery, I would have been outcast in Denver. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant the first time, they would have just made us keep trying; if I’d had a job, I would have been fired, or if I had my own money, it would have run out eventually, and they knew you’d be too- they knew you would take me in, and if I hadn’t gone with you they- no, the world would have… I couldn’t stand up to them forever, it’s just not… I would have caved, and then they could just arrest me or whatever they do with people like me, and then if I’d had an abortion…” He laughs. “They knew I would never; they knew from the beginning, oh gosh… they _knew_ , they trapped me in this from the first, Kevin, don’t you see? From the very, very beginning, everything was…” He looks up, tears welling in his eyes, but he’s smiling, and for a moment, Kevin lets himself think everything might be okay. “From the very first, I was trapped in this, and they… they made it that way. They want me trapped like this; I was never supposed to get out. Even if they don’t keep me for research, or whatever it is you thought, I… I can’t… I’ll never be… I’m never going to be free.”

Kevin doesn’t know what to say. _No, Connor, that's not... If you'll just let me..._ “Connor- ”

“No!” He’s angry again, and maybe that’s a good thing, because anything has to be better than the despair Kevin can see in his eyes. “You don’t know, Kevin, what it’s like to have… to have a life planned out, and then, then have it all destroyed because you just happen to have a different set of parts inside you than what people expect! And now, just because Heavenly Father needs to make examples of those who sin, I… I’m never going to get out! I’ll never be my own person ever again, because all I am is just… just a body for making babies, and serving alphas, and working so, so hard so that maybe, whatever I did to make Heavenly Father hate me so much will be wiped away and maybe after I die things will be better. Do you know how awful it is to live for what happens when you’re dead? No! Because you got what you prayed for!"

Kevin sits back in chair, frozen in shock. "I _what_?"

"You’re an alpha now, and people _listen_ to you! If I walk outside I get catcalled, and heckled, and I was almost _raped_ in Denver because a single omega on the streets is easy pickings, and I’m too scared to take the bus anymore because what if one time I can’t get someone off of me and they kill the baby? I can’t live without her, Kevin, and I won’t even pretend I don’t want her anymore!"

It's awful, all of it; Kevin's afraid he might be sick. Nothing in his life before can even begin to compare to the maelstrom of emotion pouring off of Connor right now, and his own mind is replying with waves of revulsion and panic and… and guilt, so strong that he can’t think straight. But then, one word cuts through the haze with sharp, painful clarity.

_Her. It's a girl. We're having a girl._

"I will face down heaven and earth if anyone tries to take her away," Connor cries, "and I don’t care how wrong it is! Screw what the Bible says, I’ll do whatever I have to do to save myself but I won’t stop loving her, and not even God Himself can make me! Just… you don’t understand, Kevin! You did this, and you… I have to suffer the consequences!” He shudders, choking on air, and Kevin jumps up, ready to… _I can’t help here, can I._

Connor jerks back, though, cringing against his chair, and it’s just so sickeningly familiar to that day when Kevin had woken up to that _smell_ and Connor had flinched back against the wall and everything had changed that Kevin feels like he’s lost six months of time until Connor gasps and he’s brought back to the present.

“S-stay away from me, Kevin Price!” Connor yells. “You’ve done enough here!”

“Connor, I never… I just… I thought you were happy!” Kevin finally cries. _Why didn't he just_ tell _me?_ “I thought you were happy with me. You kissed me! You said we were going to do this!" He fists his hands in his hair, desperate, and pretends his voice isn’t shaking when he asks "Where did I go wrong?”

“It’s not all about you!” Connor screams. “Not everything in the world revolves around you, Kevin! You can’t change God’s laws to fit what you want, no matter how beautiful your plan is. Heavenly Father’s plan isn’t always a good thing, and I have to live with the fact that my, my very _existence_ is a sin. Every breath I take is just… just polluting the world; I’m an abomination, and I couldn’t be any worse if I had killed her, Kevin! You don’t have to deal with that, and you… you think you’ve got it so hard because you don’t want to have sex with girls! Imagine wanting to have sex with _boys_ , with wanting to spread your legs for them and have them love you and being willing to do anything for boys when you _can’t_ , you have no idea how hard it is! I’ll never be able to get away from that, ever, and now I can’t even pretend because you and they and, and-” he clutches at his stomach, curling up, and Kevin feels like he's watching someone's world end in front of him.

He runs out of the apartment.

*****

"Kevin Price."

"Nabulungi? Why- you can't call me here, this is my work phone."

"To be honest, I don't give a fuck, Kevin. You are going to meet me for lunch today, and we are going to have a serious conversation, do you understand?"

"What? Why?"

"...just meet me at the town center at noon."

"Wait, Naba, what's going on-"

"Goodbye, Kevin."

*****

Naba won't talk to him after he picks her up except to tell him that they're going to Panera, damn him, and to thank him for paying for her lunch. But then they take their seats, food trays in hand, and she levels her coldest stare on him, and he's not going to blame himself for being a little nervous.

"So," Naba says, settling into her chair and facing Kevin squarely, "you had better have a damn good excuse for yourself."

"I don't even know what you're talking about!" Kevin cries, quickly glancing around to see if anyone heard him. "I didn't forget to come to dinner or something, did I? I thought I had all those things written down."

"Kevin fucking Price!" she interrupts, "not everything has to do with you!"

 _Well, obviously this does,_ he thinks, _since you've decided to pull me out of work to yell about it,_ but then he actually hears her words and he freezes.

"Excuse me?" Maybe it's a coincidence, her words sounding almost exactly like Connor’s, but then she smirks and he knows it can't be.

"Now you know what I mean."

"How- okay, look, I didn't-"

"Kevin, no one wants to hear what you did or didn't do. All I know is that I gave Connor McKinley my number, and I told him to call me or text me if he ever needed anything, and the very first time he ever used that was yesterday after you two fought. What the hell did you do to him."

"I didn't do anything! I swear, Naba, all I did was ask if he wanted to get some things for the baby, that is seriously it."

"That doesn't explain the phone call."

"I know! You think I'm not worried too? He's been... he started being _weird_ over a month ago, and I can't figure out why, and then just... just, last night happened, and I _swear_ I didn't do anything, but I don't... I'm just as... I don't know what's going on."

It's the first time he's admitted it, but he's really getting desperate and at this point he'd rather admit that than risk losing Connor entirely. Because that's what's really going on, isn't it? _Connor doesn't want to stay anymore._

So maybe he does know what's going on, but he doesn't want to accept it. That's more familiar territory, at least.

"What happened a month ago?" Naba asks, eyes narrowed.  

"Oh, uh..." Kevin ducks his head, trying not to smile. It really isn't a happy thing, not anymore, but... "he kissed me."

"He... he kissed you?"

"Yeah, it was... it was our first, you know? I mean, not even at the Center did we ever... yeah. Well, anyway, he was really happy, and I just... I hugged him, I guess, and then he kissed me, and, and it was just..."

She nods, understanding, and he gratefully skips ahead. "So that was late at night, right, and then the next morning he said we had to talk about it, because we have to talk about _everything,_ or... we did, anyway, and then, just, in the middle of a sentence, he stops. I don't know what happened, but something must have set him off, because he wouldn't talk or even move for, like, a solid minute, and then when he did it was just this, this submissive omega crap that he's been doing. And I swear on my life, Naba, I didn't do anything to cause it. I didn't say anything, or do anything, and before you accuse me or whatever let me remind you that _he_ kissed _me_ first."

Nabulungi sits back in her chair, a slight frown creasing her smooth face. "That is... strange," she admits, and Kevin throws his hands up.

"I know! That's exactly what I've been saying. And I asked my mom about it, too, and she just said that maybe he's growing up or something, but he wouldn't just grow up in two seconds flat, would he?"

"No," she says, musingly. "No, he... he wouldn't."

"So you see what I've been dealing with." Kevin sits back, feeling a bit justified, and her eyes snap up to meet his.

"Don't you dare make yourself the victim here, Kevin," she says. "Whatever that boy's going through, it's a hell of a lot worse than what it's doing to you."

 _Okay, that's it._ "Naba, you don't understand! Yes, I've got an ego, I'll admit, but this isn't even about me. I'm not hurt because he's giving me the silent treatment; I've tried to talk about this with him. It's like... he's become a different person, and I... I want Connor back." It probably says something about his state that he doesn’t even care how desperate he sounds anymore. "He's not the same anymore, and it's scary. I've never seen him just... just, give up. It's not right!"

She cocks her head, looking at him like he's said something incredibly interesting. "Why?" she asks.

"Why? Why isn't it right? Because he's... it's not him, Naba! Connor McKinley isn't the type of person to just... just give up on things; he fights for them. Gosh, do you know how hard he's fought for himself? He's strong, and independent, and he doesn't take crap from anyone, especially not me. I don't want to see him put all of that away because, for some reason, he thinks omegas have to. I couldn't care less what the government says he has to be! I just want my Connor back!"

He stops, breathing hard, and thinks through what he just said. _Oh… Oh, dear Heavenly Father, no._ He glances around, face burning; he's risen half out of his chair, and the people two tables over are giving him pitying looks. But Naba smiles, patting his arm.

"Sit down, and eat your lunch, Kevin," she says softly.

He obeys, hardly noticing what he's putting in his mouth. His head is spinning; _what on earth am I doing? What am I thinking?_

He knows, he's afraid, but he doesn't want to think about it. No, he _can’t_ think about it. It's  _wrong_. It has to be.

"Kevin..." Naba ventures, "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I do have to get back. But, before I go, and you don't need to to drive me, there's actually a really nice shortcut between here and my store; but anyway, I have a question for you to think about: I think you already know what you really feel about Connor, but I want you to ask yourself, 'if I don't care what the government says, then, do I care what the church says?'"

"The church? Naba, I-"

She stops him with a raised hand.

"Call me when you've got it figured out," she says. "Goodbye, Kevin."

He doesn't watch her go, too busy burying his head in his hands and trying to wrap his brain around what she just asked him to do.

 _She... she wants me to pick between Connor and the church? I can't... I don't_ have _to choose, right? There's nothing..._

But he remembers what Arnold said, about having to take a break from the church, and he laughs bitterly. "Of course," he mutters. "Of course I have to choose."

Because that's where he found those omega books, isn't it? That's where the propaganda all comes from. The government is full of Mormon officials. This entire country is founded on Mormon principles, it has been ever since 1823, and... and Heavenly Father hates omegas. He hates His creation. 

Kevin heads back to his office in a daze, and tells his boss that he's going to need a minute. He grabs his copy of the Book of Mormon and walks out to the building's empty lobby, and sits in one of the cheap plastic chairs. He’s numb, flipping through the well-worn pages without seeing a single word. The rustle of the pages turning echoes against the tile floor; it’s cold inside. What is wrong with me? he thinks, but he’s not sure he cares about the answer. The silence, the emptiness is overwhelming, and without permission, his mind calls up the story in Genesis, the original curse, where Adam and Eve were cursed to be an alpha and an omega, and that the alpha would be forced to work the ground and provide, and the omega would be forced to serve her alphas all her days, and to bear his children.

 _And betas_ , he guesses, _are just cursed in general, because everyone is burdened with their sin nature and has to trust in Heavenly Father and fight to overcome it._ The words ring in his thoughts like a script for a commercial, old and overused. They're empty in a way he thought they'd never be.

But he's on the clock; there's work to be done, personal problems notwithstanding. He goes through the motions for the rest of the day, with Naba's question repeating itself with every breath he takes. _Do I care what the church says?_

*****

When he comes home from work, he immediately knows something's wrong. It takes him a second to puzzle out what is, but it's when he goes to the kitchen, expecting to see Connor there, that he realizes: everything looks the exact same as it did when left for work, including the dirty dishes in the sink. Connor hasn't left dirty dishes in the sink one time since they moved in together. "Connor?" he calls.

There's not a sound in response.

He checks Connor's bedroom, the bathroom, the sofa, his own bedroom, even the closets; nothing. He calls his phone; it goes straight to voicemail. He runs out to the hallway, and he checks the laundry room and the elevator.

Connor's not in the building.

_He... he must have left. He finally just... but why now? I thought he'd..._

Kevin slumps, defeated, at the kitchen table, resting his head in his hands.

_I can't... I can't lose him. Please, Heavenly Father, You can't-_

And then he sees the paper on the floor. He dives under the table to grab it, his blood running cold at the sight of the heading "Center for Secondary Gender Development: Salt Lake City".

"No, no, it c- it's too early!" _The baby's not due until March; they can't take her now!_ "I... I thought I'd have more time..." His voice cracks, and he forces himself to take a breath before reading what it says.

But no: CONNOR DAVID MCKINLEY (hereafter referred to as 'the bearer') has been provided transportation to the Center for Secondary Gender Development: Salt Lake City (hereafter referred to as 'the Center') as agreed upon in the Statement of Consent signed 03/22/2015 by the bearer and 06/06/2015 by KEVIN AZRAEL PRICE (hereafter referred to as 'the father') for the birth of the child conceived 06/13/2015 (hereafter referred to as 'the subject'). The father’s presence is hereafter requested at the Center for the fulfillment of his contract. Signed by Dr. Carolyn Whitaker.

In that moment, Kevin forgets how to breathe.

*****

It"s a matter of seconds before he’s back in his car, backing out of the parking lot and speeding towards the highway. _Traffic shouldn’t be bad, heading into the city. I just hope I’m not too late,_ he thinks mechanically. His hands are clenched around the wheel, white-knuckled, and not a breath he takes feels like it actually reaches his lungs. To be honest, he’s not even sure how he’s driving in the right direction.

“God, why… why are you doing this?” he asks, glancing up at the ceiling of the car like it’ll give him an answer. “Why would you do this to _anyone_? What happened to being a God of love, huh? What kind of, of ‘Heavenly Father’ does this to his kids?! Just… just, You don’t answer prayers, You don’t stop people from being horrible, and cruel, and You let them take Connor away! What did he do that was so awful? He was born the way You made him!”

Kevin takes a shuddering breath; his eyes are burning and if he doesn’t stop he’s going to be in no state to argue with the Center officials when he arrives. “Just… calm down, Kevin. Calm down, you can’t… you can’t doubt Heavenly Father now.” _Not when everything depends on it._

He thinks he’s calm until he starts to merge onto Highway 15 and his phone rings, making him jump half out of his seat.

It’s Nabulungi. _Oh, thank God._  

“Naba? Hey, yeah, it’s Kevin, and uh, no, I don’t have anything figured out but that’s really not the most important thing right now and I need you to put me on speaker, if you can. Is Arnold there with you?”

There’s a rustling from the other end of the line, and then Arnold shouts “Hi, Kevin!”

Naba hisses something, and then Arnold says “Oh, I’m not supposed to sound happy right now. We’re both disappointed in you, Kevin, very disappointed.”

“Yeah, I don’t care. That’s _really_ not what you should be worried about right now.”

“...is something wrong?” Naba asks, sounding suspicious, and Kevin laughs desperately.

“Yeah, you could… that’s… he’s gone, Naba.”

“...gone?”

“Connor’s gone, and I don’t know if I can get him back.”

There’s dead silence on the other end.

“I… he… he didn’t leave, not on purpose. It’s the Center, they’ve already gotten to him, and I thought we’d have more time. I swear, I wouldn’t have left him alone if I had known; it’s way too early, and I just… I’m driving as fast as I can but I don’t know-”

“Kevin, take a deep breath. We can’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Right, right, sorry. I just… I can’t- right, breathing.” He takes a deep breath, frantically trying to organize his thoughts. _I can’t fall apart; I can’t! I have to be strong, or… no. Not even going to think about it._

“Okay now?” Arnold asks.

“Yeah,” Kevin replies, exhaling slowly. “Yeah, for now.”

“Then, please, tell us the whole thing,” Naba says calmly. _How can she…_

“You know, Naba, you should be, like, a counsellor or something,” Kevin says. If he laughs hysterically while saying it, well, who’s going to judge? “You’re so calm, and I’m just sitting here in my car, falling to pieces over this.”

“Well, that’s understandable,” she replies, and he can almost see her soft smile. “I’m not the one in crisis here. But Kevin, it would be nice to know what’s actually going on.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Um… I got home from work, and, just… everything was all messy from breakfast, which… that never happens; Connor’s too much of a neat freak. So I went to go look for him, and he’s… he wasn't not in the building, not at all, and I checked everywhere. Unless he’s hiding from- no, he can’t, there’s the, the message. They left a notice; it was under the table, and it said they took him to Salt Lake City, and… and it’s… It’s not time yet, guys! We were supposed to have until March!”

“Kevin, stay calm,” Naba interrupts. “Connor needs you to stay calm.”

“...right, calm. Calm. I can do calm.”

“Yes, you can, buddy,” Arnold says, encouragingly. “You’re gonna do just fine. Do you want us to call the police or something?”

“Oh, gosh, I… I don’t know. I don’t know if they can do anything. Or even if they would; I mean, the center’s a federally funded… and we never actually… I can’t believe I was so _stupid_! We’re not bonded, and I don’t even know if I can get in to see Connor before it’s too late.”

“Kevin, you are going to make it,” Arnold says. “Just… do your lawyer-y thing. They don’t know that you know what to do, right? They don’t know your plan, with the bonding?”

“I guess… I guess not.” _Maybe that's_ _a good thing._ “You think I should… I should try to bond with him, _there_?”

It’s Naba who answers, calm and cool. “Do you have any other choice?”

“...no.”

*****

Kevin’s fully prepared for a confrontation when he arrives, speeding up to the front of the building and parking right in the drop-off zone, but two security guards simply glance at his letter and escort him to a room near the back of the building, away from the courtyard. He doesn’t try to argue with them; they’re not who he needs to deal with. But then he’s shoved into a room, just like last time, and Connor’s curled up on the bed in the corner, and he remembers the paralyzing fear of being trapped with no means of escape, and he almost loses his courage.

But _Connor's here,_ and Connor needs him, and, and _damn it_ , he’s going to fight for him, no matter what.

“Connor! I can’t believe… are you okay?” he asks. He doesn’t try to step closer, but Connor turns his head away anyway. “Did they do anything to you?”

A voice resounds from the ceiling, reverberating against the steel of the walls, and Kevin jumps. “The bearer has been given 200 micrograms of Misoprostol and a slow-acting injection of oxytocin to induce labor.” 

“What the… where are you?” he asks, and Dr. Whitaker's voice chuckles.

“My assistants and I are watching you and the bearer from hidden cameras,” it says cooly. “We are also monitoring your vital signs. I would recommend, Mr. Price, that you try to calm down; your elevated heart rate may make the stress of labor worse for the bearer. I do have good news for you, though; your protective instincts appear to be perfectly in order.”

“Why are you doing this?” he cries; Connor flinches.

“That’s rather unspecific, Mr. Price. Why, generally speaking: for science, of course. What you and the bearer are participating in is a glorious experiment, never before attempted. You should be proud. You’re going to make history.”

Kevin can’t find the words to answer.

“Now, more specifically, why are we doing this to you? It’s because you signed a contract. You’re a lawyer-in-training, aren’t you, Mr. Price? Surely you of all people know how that contracts are legally binding.”

“Ha!” he cries, finally on stable ground. “Not when signed under false pretenses.”

“False pretenses?" The voice laughs sweetly. "Mr. Price, you are mistaken. Your contract clearly states that, to pay back the state for your highly experimental surgery, you will participate in any studies the state finds appropriate until you experience loss of reproductive function.”

 _Wait._ “What?”

“Mr. Price, didn’t you read your contract?”

“What about Connor?”

“The bearer? His presence here is an unfortunate side effect.”

Kevin actually has to sit down.

“Was… was this actually about _me_ , this whole time?” he asks.

“Again, Mr. Price, you’re not being very specific. If by ‘this’ you mean: everything that’s happened to the bearer since you and he first met; then I think it would be fair to say ‘yes’.”

 _This… this entire thing… it’s all my fault?_ “How… no. No, you can’t hold me to a contract I signed before; I’m an alpha now. My legal status has changed, and an alpha can dissolve any contract that doesn’t directly harm another human being. That includes government contracts.”

Dead silence is the voice's only reply.

“All right,” it says after a moment, matter-of-fact and brisk. “You’re free.”

“...what?” _It can’t be that easy._

“You, Kevin Price, are free to go. The door will stay unlocked for the next sixty seconds; feel free to take your leave.”

“What about Connor?”

“The bearer’s contract still endures until the birth of the subject; his legal obligations demand that he stay here.”

“I’m not going to leave him.”

“No, you’re not,” the voice says; it's like he can hear Dr. Whitaker smirking. “Your protective instincts are too strong. You can’t, however, take him with you if you try to leave. Therefore, you are going to stay here and fulfill your contract.”

He can’t think of a way around her argument; it’s too watertight. His head starts to spin.

“Mr. Price, your vitals are elevated. If you would just choose to relax, I’m sure both the bearer and yourself would find the remainder of your time here more comfortable.”

 _That’s right, I can’t… Connor needs me to stay strong._ He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“All right.”

“Thank you, Mr. Price. Now, I’m going to go away for a bit, so if you have any more questions, one of my assistants will be happy to reply. Might I recommend you see to the bearer? His pain levels are rather high right now, and he would enjoy your company.”

“You’re in pain?” Kevin asks, jumping up and running to Connor’s side. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“It’s not like you can do anything,” Connor replies. His voice is weak and strained, but he doesn’t sound angry, or scared. He doesn’t sound like anything.

“Connor, what are they doing? Why does it hurt?”

“They’re inducing labor, Kevin. My body is forming a birth canal for the baby, and it’s incredibly painful.” His face is blank, and pale. Kevin’s never been more scared.

“Is there anything I can do to stop it?”

“No.” It seems for a moment like that’s all Connor’s going to say, but then he takes a deep breath, and Kevin can see his chin quivering, and _there_ , Connor’s still alive underneath all of this. “She’s coming now, eight weeks too early, and there’s nothing we can do. Her lungs are going to be underdeveloped, but there’s nothing… it’s too late now.”

“No, Connor, we can still get out! There has to be a way; how long do you think we still have?”

And Connor turns his head to look at Kevin, meeting his eyes for the first time in months. “We could have all the time in the world and it wouldn’t help.”

“Don't talk like that; there has to be a way to get out! They have to provide you with, with medical care, or _something_ , and then we can escape.”

“What’s the point?”

“What… what’s the point?!”

“They’re going to take her away, Kevin,” Connor mutters, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “I didn’t think I had anything left to lose. I tried so hard to get rid of all of it, and… and I guess I… it’s too late, now.”

And then, _finally_ , all of the pieces fall into place.

 _Connor never wanted to leave,_ Kevin thinks. _He wanted us as much as I did. But he gave it up, on purpose, because…_ “Because you didn’t want Heavenly Father to take it away?”

“What?” Connor asks, voice cracking.

“Why did you give it all up? You… you were turning it off. This whole time, ever since November, you…”

_He thought God was going to punish him. He… he thinks it’s all a sin. Everything we ever did together… is a sin. It’s… it’s an abomination, isn’t it? Heavenly Father says so. Being gay is the worst thing that could happen to anyone, but he’s an omega, too, and the only way to maybe make up for it is to… to submit to an alpha, the way God intended omegas to._

“Mr. Price?” the voice says. “If you don’t start following my advice to calm down, I am going to have to sedate you.”

His entire body is shaking as he turns away from Connor, looking up towards the ceiling.

“Screw your advice,” he says, voice quavering in anger. “I couldn’t give less of a damn what you think I should do right now.”

_How could a loving God do this to him?_

“He can’t,” he says, replying to his own thoughts. “A God who cares wouldn’t do that. Heavenly Father wouldn’t… he wouldn’t ask you to do that, Connor.” He turns, and Connor’s eyes meet his.

“Kevin, you don’t understand-”

“I don’t have to!” he shouts. “I don’t have to understand. I don’t even care anymore. If that’s the only God out there, one who destroys the things He creates just for, for the _hell_ of it, then, then damn Him! Damn Heavenly Father! Just… no. I can’t believe in that. I can’t believe _that_ God exists.”

Connor’s gasp is the only response he gets before the door opens; both boys’ heads whip around to look. A young woman in scrubs stands there, smiling brightly. “It’s time for another dose of oxytocin,” she announces, holding up a syringe. Kevin steps in front of the bed protectively; Connor whispers “Move out of the way.”

“What?” Kevin asks, only half turning; he doesn’t want to let her out of his sight.

“Let them do what they want, Kevin. It’s the right thing to do.”

“The right- the right thing to do?! Connor McKinley, you look me in the eye and tell me it’s the right thing to do!” Kevin grabs onto his shoulders, priorities shifting in the space of a second. “You don’t want this anymore than I do! You don’t want to give her up! You, you told me so yourself! Stop pretending that Heavenly Father cares about this. This- it doesn’t even matter if it’s wrong; you don’t want it.”

“That doesn’t…”

“Mr. Price, the bearer needs to receive his medication now," the voice says sharply. "Since your presence is disturbing him, Nurse Burbank is going to have to move him to a separate room.”

A hand is laid on Kevin’s arm, and the nurse pulls him away with surprising strength.

“Get up,” she barks at Connor, who stumbles to his feet with wide eyes.

“Connor, no!” Kevin yells, but, slowly, Connor walks away, the nurse herding him towards the door. “Connor, you can’t- you know this isn’t… Screw Heavenly Father. If He loved you, He’d want you to be happy.”

Connor hesitates, just before the door, but then his head drops, and he says “Kevin, just… stop.”

 _No! No, you can’t-_ Kevin wants to scream, to chase after him, but he’s paralyzed, standing frozen as the nurse starts to pull the door shut after her.

And then he remembers. 

“Connor, wait!” Kevin lunges for the door, shoving his hand between it and the frame just before it closes. He can’t even feel the pain as he pushes out into the hallway, running to Connor. With one fierce move, he pulls Connor to him, hugging him as fiercely as he can. _I have to tell him I-_ “I love you,” he says, wrapping his arms around him. “I can’t... I can't let you do this to yourself.”

He can hardly believe what he’s said; he hasn’t even let himself think it before… was it only a few hours ago since he had lunch with Naba?

“Connor, please, I… I can’t just… please, don’t do this.” And he steps back, only releasing his death grip on Connor as much as he has to to see his face. “It’s… it’s your choice. But I’m not going to stop fighting. I swear on my life, Connor, I will get us out. All of us.”

Connor’s just looking up at him, his gaze empty, and it looks like Kevin’s fighting a losing battle, until he whispers, “Even her?”

Kevin smiles, relief washing over him like a wave. “Yes, even her,” he says, taking Connor’s hand and resting it on his stomach. “I promise, we will get out of this.”

_Just, please, say yes._

Connor’s gaze flicks back to the nurse, who’s just staring at them as if she doesn’t quite know what to do. “Kevin, I…”

“Please, Connor.” _I can’t do this without you._

“Kevin, how do you _know_?” he asks. “How do you know, what you said in there? About… Heavenly Father?”

And Kevin actually does laugh, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Connor’s expression. “I… I don’t,” he says. “I have no frickin’ idea. But, Connor, if I have to choose between a God who never even talks to me, and you, I’m going to choose you, every time. Because I _love_ you. _God_ , I love you, and… and Heavenly Father is supposed to be a god of love.” He opens his eyes, then, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Connor’s. “If there is a God,” he says, “then He has to want me to be with you.”

Connor doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t pull back, and shake his head, and turn away. He doesn’t even just stand still, not making a move either way. Without any hesitation at all, he grasps Kevin’s hand, and he says “Kevin, please, just… just do it.”

“...what?”

“We have to bond, right now. Do it, please.”

“But… but what about…”

“Bonds don’t need sex, they just need the bite," he says, suddenly impatient. "Please, just… if we don’t do it right now, it’ll be too late.” His eyes flick over to somewhere above Kevin’s shoulder, and Kevin looks around to see the nurse advancing on them.

“You can’t do that,” she says sweetly. “Bonding during labor will trigger a rush of oxytocin and cause the process to accelerate up to five times as quickly. The bearer’s body most likely won’t be able to handle the change.”

Kevin looks back at Connor, his own eyes going wide. “Connor, is that-”

“It’s our only chance, Kevin!” he snaps. “Please, do it now!”

He hesitates, looking back at the nurse. She looks almost manic, waving the needle in her hand like it's a weapon.

“You can’t violate your contract,” she says. “You are required to repay the state!”

“Connor, are you sure?” he asks, not looking away from the nurse.

“I’m sure.” Connor doesn’t hesitate; if he did, Kevin’s not sure he could go through with it.

But, as he looks at the nurse, clutching at Connor’s hand, he says, “Fuck your contract.”

And then he gives Connor the bite. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which consequences result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your wonderful reviews! Here's the next chapter, a little earlier than I planned.

Three things happen at once: the nurse lunges towards them, Connor screams and goes limp in his arms, and Kevin sees red.

He’s not really sure what happens after that; the next thing he knows, he’s kneeling over Connor on the pavement in front of the Center, and there’s blood everywhere. Connor’s barely conscious, and Kevin’s screaming at someone to call 911. There’s people surrounding them, white-faced, shadowy figures in the dark; they’re all children. _They’re here for camp,_ he thinks. “Call 911, dammit!” he screams.

“We did,” one of them says, “they’re on their way.”

He can’t even spare them a thank you, all of his attention focused on Connor. It’s his blood everywhere, Kevin realizes, covering both of them. Connor’s pants are soaked with it, but he manages to smile softly when Kevin meets his eyes.

“It’s… it’s going to be all right,” he says, voice choked. “You’re going to make things okay.”

“Yes,” Kevin replies, desperate. “Yes, I’m going to make everything okay, I promise. I told you we’d all make it out, and I meant it, all right? We’re outside; they can’t get to us anymore.”

Off in the distance, he hears sirens, and he grabs Connor’s hand. “Do you hear that? The ambulance is on its way. You’re going to be okay.”

Connor’s grip is weak, though, and soon his hand is limp in Kevin’s grasp.

“Kevin…” he whispers.

“Yeah, Connor? Whatever it is, I’ll… I’ll get it, I’ll do it. It’s going to be okay.”

Connor smiles warmly. “Of course you will. Just… promise… she’s going to be okay?”

“You’re both going to be okay. I told you- we’re all gonna get out of this.”

“No, Kevin… you’ll take care of her?”

“I…” _No, he can’t… he doesn’t mean…_  “We’re both going to take care of her. We’re bonded now, Connor; you’re stuck with me now, for good.” Kevin’s grip gets tighter, as if just by touch he can send Connor strength. “We’re gonna take care of her together.”

Connor’s eyes close, and Kevin feels his own heart stop. “No, no no no, don’t you dare, Connor, don’t you _dare_ pass out on me right now; the ambulance is almost here.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees it pull into the parking lot, red and blue lights casting glaring light over the Center's cold stone, and he almost starts crying in relief. “Connor, you gotta stay with me.”

Connor’s eyelids flicker, and Kevin grins. “Yeah, that’s it. Stay with me, Connor. We… we have to think about baby names! We never talked about names. What do you think? What do you wanna call our baby girl?”

The ambulance pulls up, sirens wailing, but all Kevin sees is Connor’s lips, barely moving, forming a single word.

“What was that?” he asks frantically, leaning in to hear. _I have to know what it is, in case- No, for when we both sign that birth certificate._

“Sylvia,” Connor mumbles. “Her… she’s… Sylvia.”

“Sylvia, yes, that’s a beautiful name,” Kevin replies, waving the paramedics over. They immediately pull him away from Connor, asking questions about his injury and what’s going on. He tries to answer coherently, but they stretch Connor out on a gurney and load him up into the ambulance and when they try to stop him from going along he snaps “He’s my bonded!” and they let him go without another word.

“He’s going to be okay, right?” he asks as they pull up to the emergency entrance of the hospital. “He’s going to be okay?”

One of the paramedics gives him a pitying frown. “Are you a religious man?” he asks.

Kevin shakes his head numbly.

“Then you might wanna change your mind,” the paramedic says. “Because he’s gonna need a whole lot of prayer.”

*****

They won’t let him into the delivery room; they say that Connor's injuries are too critical. He’s been out in the waiting room for hours when Naba and Arnold call, demanding to know what’s going on and if he’s okay.   
He tells them that he’s in the hospital, and that they don’t know if Connor’s going to make it, and Naba says they’re coming right away.

Kevin asks them to bring him a change of clothes; Connor’s blood is starting to soak on to the hospital chair.

He still sitting in the waiting area, hunched over with his head in his hands, when they arrive, pushing him towards the bathroom so he can get cleaned up. He does feel a bit more human after he wipes the blood off with wet paper towels and puts on clean clothes. He doesn’t even hesitate before throwing his stained dress shirt and slacks away; if they could be cleaned he’d still never wear them again.

Arnold and Naba don’t ask what happened when he gets back. They sit him down in a clean chair and they sit on either side, resting their hands on his shoulders. He’s grateful, he tells them, but he can’t…

They understand.

The hands of the cheap clock above the water fountain inch towards eleven; it’s been less than six hours since he left work to head home, expecting to see Connor there, blank-faced and submissive if not happy. Kevin can’t believe he ever thought anything would be better than that.

There’s a lot of things he can’t believe right now.

*********

“Kevin Price?”

His head snaps up. There’s a nurse standing there, in scrubs and a lab coat, and he’s smiling. He’s _smiling._   
“He’s okay?” Kevin asks, standing quickly. “He’s…”

“Exhausted, suffering extreme blood loss, and probably not going to want to get pregnant again any time soon, but yes, he’s alive.”

Finally, Kevin cries.

The nurse doesn’t leave, watching awkwardly as Naba and Arnold come up and wrap Kevin in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sniffling. “It’s just… you don’t know what we’ve been through.”

The doctor nods understandingly. “It’s quite all right, Mr. Price. Being a new father is overwhelming for all.”

And _of course_. “My, my daughter?” he asks. He can’t keep from smiling at the words.

“She’s… well, she’s definitely alive and kicking. Of course, she came into the world pretty early, so we’ve got to get her up to the NICU on an IV pretty soon, but it doesn't look like she's going to need a ventilator. She's a strong one; most babies born that early would need the help, but she’s doing just fine without it, for now.”

He means to thank the guy, to tell him how incredibly grateful he is that they're both alive, but all he says is "Can I see them?"

The nurse beams. "Right this way."

*********

Connor's asleep when he walks in, an IV attached to a blood bag running into his arm. Kevin goes straight to him, pulling a chair up to the side of the bed and taking his hand gently. It feels so good to physically touch him, to have that proof that he's there, and Kevin doesn't know how he can possibly feel all of the things he's feeling right now.

"I thought..." he whispers; the nurse politely ignores him in favor of checking something off to the side. "I thought you were going to die. Damn you, Connor, I... I love you." It's just as mystical and terrifying saying it now as it was at the Center, but now... now he actually has time to think.

He and Connor are _bonded_. They're bonded, and it's better than being married because bonds can't be broken, not without a huge long process and a bunch of stuff that Kevin would rather not think about. And Connor _asked_ for it.

 _Maybe he only wanted it for the baby,_ he thinks. There's a chance it could be true. But... but somehow, he's sure it's not.

"Sir?"

Kevin turns, and the nurse is standing there, holding a small bundle in a blanket. "Would you like to hold your daughter? She really should be in the NICU by now, but... there's a reason I work in this department; I get how it feels." He holds out the bundle, and Kevin's stomach drops. Right there, hardly a foot from him, is his _daughter_. He has a _child_. He's a _dad_.

"I.. I can hold her?" he asks, awe-struck. He feels like he's seven again, looking up at his dad as he holds out his little brother Joseph, and he's so terribly afraid he might do something dumb like _drop her_.

But the nurse laughs and gently settles the bundle into his arms, readjusting the tinsy little striped cap on her head. "There you go," he says. "Now, just make sure you hold up her head, and... well, look at that. You're a natural, Mr. Price,"

Kevin smiles. It's more from practice than anything, but he can't even bring himself to speak; he's holding his daughter, and there's nothing more important in the world.

"She's so small," he whispers, unable to tear his eyes away. "Is that..."

"She's actually pretty big for her age," the nurse says, stepping back. "Almost three and a half pounds, but don't worry, she'll bulk up pretty fast. She's a cutie, I've gotta say."

"Yeah," Kevin replies, brushing the blanket away from her face. "Just like her daddy." Because she's got a tiny little button nose, like Connor, and a round face like Connor's, and he just knows that she'll look like him. "Do you know when she'll open her eyes?"

"Oh, not for a while, probably. She's exhausted right now; being born is tough stuff. But she will open them in the next day, for sure, just as soon as she gets enough sleep."

"Okay," Kevin says. And then she yawns, her whole face wrinkling with the effort, and time stops for a moment. _She's... she's mine. I have a baby. How on earth- I mean, obviously I know_ how _, but how... How did everything in the world come together in just the right way for this to happen?_ He has a daughter; he has an omega. He has _Connor_ and _Sylvia_ , and they're not going away. 

 _But she's so tiny..._ "And she's going to get bigger? She's gonna be okay?" _They're both going to be okay?_ He can't seem to get enough reassurance.

"Yes, Mr. Price, she should be just fine. I'm sorry, sir, but she does have to go to the NICU now." The nurse makes an apologetic face, and Kevin hands her over quickly. "I'm afraid I'm going to drop her or something if I hold on too long," he confesses, laughing nervously. _If I keep her too long, who knows what damage I could do._ He looks down, embarrassed; _have my hands always been so large? I could hold her in one palm._

"Hardly anyone drops their babies at first," the nurse responds cheerfully, "but if you do at some point, you shouldn't be too worried.  They're surprisingly resilient."

Well, then. "...okay." _Was that supposed to be comforting?_

The nurse doesn't seem to notice his reaction, though, carefully arranging all sorts of wires and tubes around the baby he's placed back in the bassinet. "All right, I'll just get your little angel upstairs, and- oh my gosh, I completely forgot!" Laughing at himself, the nurse grabs a piece of paper from the small counter off to the side and hands it to Kevin. "You need to write in the little sweetheart's name!"

Kevin glances over at Connor, but he hasn't moved; _he won't be awake for this._

"He told me he wants her name to be Sylvia," he says, jotting it down quickly, "but, uh... for the last name? Can I... is a hyphenated thing okay?"

"Of course, sir, whatever you two agreed upon."

 _That's the thing, though, we never actually_ talked _about it._ But the form needs to be signed, so Kevin just writes down something he hopes Connor won't kill him for.

"Here you go," he says, offering it up. He sort of just wants it out of his face, but then the nurse gives him an incredulous grin and asks "No middle name?"

"Uh..." Kevin is stumped. "We never talked about that." _What kind of parents do we look like, never talking about our kid's name?_ "I mean, you gotta understand, we've... we've been through hell and back, and... yeah, I just... um..."

"It's perfectly all right if you just want to go with what's here," the nurse replies brightly, but Kevin shakes his head sharply.

"No, no, she's got to- wait, you said you were married, right?"

"I don't think so, but I am, yes."

"What's your wife's name?"

The nurse grins. "My _husband_ 's name is James, and I doubt you would want to use that for little Sylvia here, but... I had a little sister who... well, her name was Darcy. Maybe that would..."

"Yeah, Darcy... I like that." Quickly snatching the paper back, he writes that in the blank for middle name, beaming at the results. "Perfect!"

The nurse smiles softly before taking the piece of paper and putting it in a file which he tucks under his arm.

"Thank you for that, Mr. Price. Now, I'll just get out of your hair." He turns to go, wheeling the bassinet out casually, before Kevin realizes that he doesn't even know the guy's name and he just named his daughter after his sister. _That's going to be fun to tell Connor._ "Hey, um... what's your name?" he asks.

"Oh," the man chuckles. "If you need me, just ask for Nurse Poptarts; they'll know who I am."

And so Kevin is left alone, wondering for a moment about the sanity of the man he just entrusted his daughter to, but the fact that he has a daughter at all is just too, too mind-blowingly _incredible_ for him to be too worried. And Connor... he still has to worry about Connor.

He's just... lying there, in the hospital bed. He's more pale than he should be, probably, but he does look calm. Kevin's never actually watched him sleep before; even when Connor fell asleep in the car on the way back from Salt Lake City, almost half a year ago, or after the show they went to that one time. _Wow…_ He laughs a little, realizing how frickin’ surreal this is, that they still have so many firsts that got skipped over the first time around, and that, apparently, is enough to wake Connor up. He stirs a little, turning his head and frowning, and Kevin takes his hand.

“Connor?” he whispers, and Connor’s eyelashes flutter gently. Kevin loses his breath for a second.

“K- Kevin?” Connor replies, his eyes slowly opening. He squints at the brightness of the hospital lights, and Kevin grins.

“You’re awake!”

“...unfortunately,” he mumbles, his free hand sweeping across the blanket. The moment it touches his stomach, though, he looks at Kevin, terrified. “Where is she?”

“She’s upstairs,” Kevin replies, “she’s fine, I promise. She’s just premature, so they had to take her to the NICU. But she’s fine, Connor; I held her myself.”

“You got to hold her?” Connor asks, voice ragged, his terror melting away into hurt and longing.

 _Wow, it’s like I can see exactly what he’s thinking,_ Kevin thinks. _It’s… it’s sad. I don’t want him to look like that._

“Well, yeah, but, Connor, you’ll get to, too, once you’re feeling better. I’m sure they won’t keep her away forever. It’s just… she’s so _tiny_ , Connor, and babies aren’t supposed to be that small, you know? I've seen tons of them; I'm the oldest in my family and I've seen every one of my siblings and it's not, not _natural_ for babies to be that tiny, and I really want her to be okay; it’s scary seeing how small she is and she wouldn’t even open her eyes! And you didn’t wake up in time, either, and I just didn’t know what to do, I’m sorry. I'm sorry that all of this happened the way it did. I shouldn't have let Nurse Poptarts take- No, I shouldn't have left you alo- No, I shouldn't have- there's so much I shouldn't have done, Connor, I'm so sorry for letting all of this happen. I’m the worst alpha I’ve ever even heard of.” _Okay, where did_ that _come from?_

It’s true, really, but he's supposed to be taking care of Connor right now, not blabbering on like an idiot and _apologizing_ for everything.

But Connor smiles, squeezing his hand with a weak grip. “Kevin, it’s… you’re fine. I was scared, too. And, for the alpha thing… I honestly don’t even care.” And now all Kevin can see past the exhaustion is acceptance and comfort and love and _okay! This is getting a little weird!_

He means to ask if Connor is seeing the same sort of thing, or if it’s just the lack of sleep and everything getting to him, but the words change coming out of his mouth, somehow, and he ends up saying “She’s so beautiful, Connor; she looks just like you,” instead.

Connor turns his head away, embarrassed. “All babies look the same, Kevin.”

“No, no, she really does, I promise. Even the nurse thought so.” _He did, right? Oh well, it doesn’t really matter. I’m still right._ “And she’s going to have your eyes.”

“All babies have blue eyes, Kevin,” Connor mutters, sighing. But there’s a hint of a grin on his lips, and Kevin can tell that he likes that Kevin’s saying this.

“Not Price babies,” Kevin corrects. “Every one of us was born with brown eyes. But Sylvia’s going to have blue eyes, I just know it.”

Connor blinks. “Sylvia?”

“Yeah, Sylvia. That… that was the name you said, right? Like, from _The Truman Show_?” _Oh no, what if I heard it wrong? Can we even change it now?_

“...yes, yes, of course, I just… I didn’t know… you could have picked something different.”

“I didn’t want anything different.” _Why would I want anything different?_ “Her name is Sylvia.”

And Connor looks so grateful, he really hates to ruin it. “But I couldn’t ask you about the middle or last name, and I’m sorry if they’re bad, but they sound good, I think, and the nurse liked them, so I hope they’re not… I’m sorry, I feel like I can’t control my mouth right now. Are you getting that, too?”

Connor laughs weakly. “Kevin, did you read up on bonds at all?”

“Well, I know the basics, but… what is this, like, some sort of anti-lie thing? Am I never going to be able to keep my mouth shut around you now?”

“As if you could before. But, no, it should get less intense sometime or other.”

 _That… that was sass. He’s sassing me._ “You’re being sarcastic!”

Now he just looks confused, covering a yawn with his hand before he answers “...yes?”

“You’re being sarcastic! Keep… keep doing that!”

“Oh. Oh, no, Kevin, I…” Somehow Connor goes even more pale, clutching at Kevin’s hand. “Oh my gosh, Kevin, what have we _done_?"

There’s a lot of answers he could give. But it’s past midnight, Connor almost died, and Kevin just held his daughter for the first time. “We survived, Connor.”

“But, but Kevin, Heavenly Fath-”

“Fuck Heavenly Father. Don’t you want to be happy?”

“I…” Connor stops, looking up at Kevin. His eyes, so blue against the paper-white of his skin and the dark circles underneath, look impossibly wide as they search Kevin’s face. “Will you kiss me?” he asks. It's a strange question, kind of, but Kevin doesn't really care; Connor could honestly say just about anything and he'd love it.

_I’ll do whatever you want._

The kiss is soft, barely a press of lips on lips, and there’s nothing really mushy about it. But Connor sighs, falling back against the cheap hospital pillow again, and Kevin thinks that maybe for once he’s done something right.

“Will you say it again?” Connor asks softly. “That you… you know.”

“That I love you?”

“...yes, that.”

“I love you, Connor McKinley,” Kevin replies. “I love you so, so much, and you almost _died_ today. Do you know what I would have done without you?”

“You would have kept your promise,” Connor says. “You would have taken care of her.”

Their voices are hushed, barely carrying over the beeping of the heart rate monitor and the whirring of the hundred machines around the bed, but something about the moment feels sacred. “Damn straight I would have,” Kevin replies fiercely. “And I would love her with everything in me, and she’d grow up knowing just how, how _incredible_ her daddy was, and how much I loved him. She’d get everything she wanted, and more, because she’s _yours_ , and I wouldn’t be able to say no to anything she wanted.”

Connor chuckles, closing his eyes. “Good thing I’m still here, then,” he replies. “We don’t want her getting spoiled, do we?”

Kevin chuckles, too, but he can’t help but notice that, even though he can’t stop saying really sappy things and telling Connor that he loves him, Connor hasn’t said anything back.

“Hey, um, Connor?” he asks, and Connor bites his lower lip.

“Yes, Kevin?”

“Do… do you... regret it?” He means the bonding mark; it’s covered with an ugly bandage now, but Connor’s free hand clutches at his stomach again, and Kevin realizes that maybe he's thinking about everything.

“It… it’s painful,” Connor says, finally, looking away. “And not just… it isn’t just my body that hurts, you know. There’s a lot of things I never thought I would have to go through that  _happened_ in the past year, but… I can’t regret it. Not when we got Sylvia out of it.”

“And what about…” Kevin raises their joined hands.

“What about ‘us’?” Connor echoes; Kevin nods.

“I… do you want me to say it?” He sounds a little desperate, and he's so weak that Kevin doesn't want to push, but he can’t exactly _lie_ so he sort of half shrugs and hopes Connor isn’t mad. “Kevin, I… I _do_ , I swear. I feel- I... I do, but I don’t know if I can… I can’t just say it, you know?”

“But you do?” It's suddenly a pressing need, for him to _know_ , just as strong as his need had been earlier to see him, to see both of them with his own two eyes and make sure they’re okay.

“I do, Kevin. I- I _care_ for you, very much.” Connor smiles, a little sheepish and a little scared and Kevin knows he’s putting on a brave face but at least he’s not turning it off, and he says “I just have to tell myself that that’s okay.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which promises are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the final chapter, guys! I seriously hope you enjoy it! And happy first day of Christmas :D

Connor cries when Kevin tells him Sylvia's full name. He doesn't really care about the Darcy bit, thank goodness, but apparently it means a lot to him that her last name is McKinley-Price, and not the other way around. Kevin just thinks it sounds better.

It turns out that Connor cries kind of a lot, actually, when he's not turning it off. But he also laughs a lot, and he sings around the house, and sometimes he'll even dance with Sylvia in his arms and Kevin couldn't care less if he has to deal with some waterworks if this is what he gets in return.

It also turns out that they probably should have put more thought into preparing for a baby, for a number of reasons: one, Arnold and Naba are ready to skin them both alive when, the next day, Kevin finally lets them in and the two of them are told the whole story (with Connor's input this time); two, because deciding the name at the last minute was cutting it a little close; and three, when the Connor's doctor tells them Saturday that, congratulations, Connor gets to go home the next day (even though he's stuck on bedrest), they realize quite abruptly that they have no place for Sylvia to _stay_.

"Well, of course she'll stay with me," Connor says, sitting up in his hospital bed, "at least until she's old enough to sleep alone. But we don't have the space for a nursery, Kevin. Where is she going to go?"

"Well..." For a moment, Kevin is stumped. Obviously his dad didn't plan on them keeping the baby (and is _that_ going to be a fun conversation), so the apartment doesn't have more than two bedrooms, but- _wait_. "You could move in with me."

Connor raises an eyebrow. "We share an apartment, Kevin."

"No, no, I mean, you know, _move in_."

There's no comprehension on Connor's face.

"To my bedroom."

"Oh." There it is _._ "You mean... sleep together?"

"Yeah. It's not like it would be weird or anything. I can sleep on the couch until you're comfortable, if you want, but that way we'd have a nursery, and it could be her bedroom when she gets older."

Connor's mouth opens and closes a few times, like he doesn't know exactly how to respond. "What if I wanted you to move into mine, instead?"

Kevin blinks. "I'd do it, if you really wanted. But my room's bigger."

Connor grins. "That it is. Fine, then. I guess we'll... _move in_ together. Again. Now go get your computer; we have to find some good baby furniture somewhere."

Kevin knows it was a test, for Connor to see how far Kevin would go for him. Connor needs to know if he can trust him. It hurts to realize that he doesn't right now, but Kevin knows it isn't his fault; at least, not entirely. And if going along with what Connor wants now will earn his trust later, then Kevin's going to do it for as long as it takes. Because, really, Connor's worth it.

As for the bond itself, it's kind of... anticlimactic. Kevin was expecting a sharing of emotions and overpouring of love that borders on codependency, not to mention actual, physical pain from not being in the same room; that's the sort of thing the stories say. But it doesn't really change things much, except that Kevin can feel when Connor's closer or nearer, or if he's very emotional about something. He can also tell if Connor's lying at the drop of a hat, which becomes pretty useful for when they both decide that turning it off is abolished in the McKinley-Price household. Overall, though, not as overwhelming as it was made out to be. It's not even life-changing, not as much as telling Connor he loved him was. He asks Connor, one night, if he's noticed how little the changes are, and Connor just sort of smiles and tells him to stop overthinking. They're unbearably comfortable around each other now, so all Kevin does in reply is (gently) poke him in the side and tug them even closer together on the hospital bed.

But not everything ends so happily. With Kevin's decision comes consequences, in the form of a phone call on Sunday, just after he brings Connor back from the hospital. "I'll just take this real quick," he says apologetically, "and then we can start looking for cribs and stuff," because Kevin, as Connor pointed out, didn't buy hardly anything truly vital during his pre-Christmas binge.

Connor shoos him out of the bedroom, telling him to "take the darn phone call before it's too late, honestly", and he answers "Hello, Kevin Price speaking!" with a besotted grin on his face.

"Kevin, where have you been."

"Oh gosh, Dad, I can explain-"

"No, I don't want to hear it. Your mother and I have been worried sick about you, young man; you call your boss to tell him you won't be in for 'medical reasons', but then you don't answer your phone? We raised you better than that."

"No, Dad, I know, and I'm sorry, but the last few days have been seriously crazy. I honestly haven't had time. Connor just got released from the hospital today, and-"

"Connor, the omega?" His dad's voice is frigidly cold, and through his euphoria it takes Kevin a second to realize why. 

"Yeah. _Oh_ , yeah... Dad? I... I guess I've got something to tell you."

"And what is that?"

"Uh... well, Connor and I... there's really no good way to put this, so I'm just gonna jump right in." He takes a deep breath. "Connor and I are bonded."

There's a long, long pause.

"You're _what_."

Kevin flinches."We're bonded now. I mean, we kind of had to, but..." he frowns; _I don't want to sound like I regret it at all. I don't! And he just has to get used to it._ "But even if we didn't, I would have done it anyway."

"Kevin Price, having carnal relations with a man once, under duress, is something that I can and have forgiven you for. But doing it a second time, with no reason... What do you have to say for yourself?"

Another deep breath. "...I love him."

"You _love_ him?"

"I love him, and we're keeping the baby. Congrats, Dad; you're a grandpa." He grins half-heartedly, leaning against the wall as if it will protect him from his dad's wrath.

He can feel the fury building on the other end of the line, and, without realizing it, his hand clutches at his phone so hard his knuckles go white.

"Do you realize what you're doing, son? You're blatantly disobeying the rules of Heavenly Father! Flaunting your unnatural urges to the world as if they're something to be proud of! Are you determined to live a life of sin?"

His words are like a punch to the gut. Before Kevin can answer he continues, saying "We will be talking after the service, young man, and we will be taking serious steps to-"

"I'm not going to come to the service."

"Kevin Azrael Price, you _will_ come to the temple today or I will cut you off from all familial support! Your behavior is ridiculous, sinful, rebellious; you're behaving like a child! What are you trying to do?"

"I'm not trying to do anything, Dad." He hopes he doesn't notice the way his voice is wavering. "I'm just in love with him, and with our daughter, and... and right now, they're the most important things in my life."

"The Church should take first priority, son! What on earth are you doing? Is this... is this some kind of crisis of faith?"

 _It's certainly not a... a good thing for my spiritual life_. "...yeah, you could say so."

"You can't doubt Heavenly Father! What's happening to you, Kevin? You've never had any doubt before!"

Kevin closes his eyes, ashamed. _I don't know, Dad. I don't know anymore than you do._

But then his dad hisses, "That omega; he must be corrupting you!"

"What? No, Connor would never- He's Mormon, too, Dad." _Ex-Mormon now, I guess._

"You can't tell me you would have said any of these things before you met him! Your mother and I worked hard to prepare you for the world, and now... now _this_!"

Kevin's had enough. "Yeah, well, the world doesn't work the way you told me," he snaps, "and now I'm trying to figure it out for myself."

"What doesn't, Kevin? Your mother and I never lied to you!"

"Good people don't always get their rewards, Dad! Being good doesn't get you anything."

His dad scoffs. "Is that the only reason you were following Heavenly Father? For goodies and pats on the head for doing the right thing? You have to trust through the good times and bad, Kevin, you know that. You can't just give up when things are hard."

"This isn't about m-"

"But if that's going to be your view of things, then the Church doesn't need you, anyways."

Kevin hangs up.

His phone falls to the floor; he doesn't pick it up. He can't move. He thought his dad _loved_ him. Who would say something like that to their family?

_Who kicks their son out for being an omega? Who tells their son the Church doesn't want them because they..._

When his phone vibrates, showing a text from his dad, he just sees the words "...not welcome back home..." before bending over and turning it off. He leaves it there, just staring blankly until suddenly Connor's grabbing his arm and looking up at him with wide eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asks, clutching at Kevin. "What happened?"

"It's... my dad, he... he called to find out why... about work."

Connor seems to understand his garbled words somehow, and he gently pulls Kevin into his arms, leaning his head against Kevin's shoulder. "Oh, honey..." he whispers, "I'm sorry."

Kevin doesn't reply, resting his head on Connor's; he can't even find the energy to return the embrace.

"Do you want to tell me what he said?" Connor asks gently.

"He... he said the Church..." Kevin can't talk about that, not yet. "I told him about us."

"You- oh, _Kevin_."

"...yeah."

"And he...?"

"Didn't take it well."

"Honey..." Connor squeezes him tightly, then pulls back, smiling softly. "Come on, come to bed with me." He leads Kevin to the bed, their bed now, and curls up next to him when they both get settled, looking at him with wide eyes. "I'm sorry," he repeats, gently stroking Kevin's arm.

Kevin just stares up at the ceiling, numb. "I didn't think... he, he says I'm not... I can't go home, Connor."

And Connor of all people knows what this is like, how this feels.

 _It was worse for him,_ Kevin thinks; _you've got so much more to be grateful for. Stop whining._ But then he feels Connor's hand on his cheek, and Connor kisses him, soft and sweet.

"It's okay to be upset," he says. "He's your family."

_It's more than that, though! What about the church? All my old friends? What about my job?_

"But, Kevin," he continues, a little nervously, "you do still have... well, you've got me. And soon we'll have Sylvia, too." He hesitates, but then he sits up, looking down at Kevin. "We'll be home. We're your family." He seals his words with another kiss, this one stronger, more firm; a promise. "We won't leave."

*********

Kevin keeps his job (thank goodness for anti-discrimination laws), but soon after he starts thinking about trying to find work elsewhere, anyway. His dad won't talk to him, even at the office, and the business law they handle starts to lose its meaning for Kevin. It's not interesting anymore, not now that he knows that there are more corrupt laws, and better things to fight for. Not to mention that now his dad's turned on him, a lot of his coworkers have, too. He doesn't really know what to do, though. He's always had a very set plan for his life, for his future, and now... what is he supposed to do? He's lost, until one day it hits him that omega laws are awful, but _somebody_ has to defend them, and what if he did that instead of putting together research for big money corporations who can afford to lose? Omegas can't; so who fights for them?

Kevin remembers that day as the one he found his purpose again.

He's got interviews lined up with three different civil litigation offices that specialize in omega cases by the time they finally get to bring Sylvia home from the hospital; it's a sunny day at the end of February, and she's finally passed the 38 week mark. Kevin's had the car seat ready since week 34, the crib since 35 and the high chair (which she won't even need for a ridiculously long time) since week 37. But he's determined to not be caught unprepared again.

It's beautiful, watching Connor's face as the nurse on duty finally gives him their baby girl to keep, and seeing her blink and yawn and wave her little bitty (still too incredibly small) hands in protest at being woken up. Even though she's so young, Kevin knows he's right about her looking like Connor: she has his eyes for sure. They're ice blue, of course, but even with weeks of staring up at the bright florescent lights of the hospital, they haven't gotten darker yet. Her hair, though, doesn't really seem to have come from either of them: it's too light of a brown to match Kevin's chestnut hair, but it's certainly not red, and it curls into little ringlets at the base of her neck. Neither of them are really sure where that came from, but Kevin's convinced it's from some far-off McKinley relative. Connor maintains that he finds Kevin's predictions ridiculous in front of others, but in private he confessed that he hopes Kevin is right, and Kevin's never going to let that go.

When they get back to their apartment that day, there's two extra cars in the parking lot, and balloons outside of their door. Connor sends him a suspicious look, but Kevin only grins. Sure enough, there's a banner hung across the door, saying 'Welcome Home, Sylvia!' in pink, handwritten letters. "Surprise!" Kevin says, gesturing with the hand that isn't holding onto the baby carrier, and Connor smiles.

"You set up a party?"

"Uh, sort of a late baby shower," he replies. "Come on, I think Arnold cooked."

Connor rolls his eyes fondly, swinging open the door, but it's not just Arnold and Naba there. Maybe it was a little forward inviting Poptarts and his husband, but Kevin and Connor had gotten pretty close to the nurse during their daily trips to the hospital in the past month, and he had been so happy for them when he told them they could take Sylvia home today... Kevin couldn't help but invite him.

There's a chorus of greetings as Kevin and Connor enter, and Kevin sees perfectly well the almost manic gleam in Naba's eyes as they alight on the baby carrier, but Connor gasps, eyes wide, and Poptart's husband stands up from the sofa.

"Connor?" he says, incredulous, and Connor nods frantically.

"James, I- I can't believe you're here!"

They rush to each other, hugging enthusiastically, and Kevin exchanges a confused look with Poptarts before, grinning ear to ear, Connor turns to him and says "Kevin, this is my best friend, James Church."

And _oh_ , it's the boy whose mother killed herself and made Connor afraid of alphas; Kevin nods politely.

"I never thought I would see him again. 'Cause this loser," he continues, punching James' shoulder, "got himself transferred here for camp six months before I did."

Poptarts makes a sound of understanding. "How weird is that, though?" he says, starting to grin, "that you guys would get to meet up again?"

"Yeah," James says, ruffling Connor's hair, and Connor squawks, indignantly; it's the most childish behavior Kevin's ever seen from him. "It's crazy. And just look at you, a dad! Your poor kid, man."

And of course that draws everyone's attention back to Sylvia who has, luckily, decided to play nice tonight, smiling toothless smiles at everyone and not being fussy at all before she falls asleep in Kevin's arms. He's the one she ends up with, after everyone's gotten a chance to hold her and boop her nose and exclaim over how cute she is, and dinner (which was cooked by Arnold, to everyone's mutual delight) has been eaten and everyone curls up on and around the couch to watch _Lilo and Stitch_. It's the one Disney movie Kevin's never seen, and as soon as he mentioned that, everyone (mainly Poptarts, who shares his obsession with Disney and animation in general) insisted that he watch it. After getting a text from his mom, saying that while she's happy for him, if he could just put aside his questions and talk to someone at the temple maybe he- he welcomes the idea of a distraction.

It's a cute movie, but he gets distracted counting Sylvia's toes over and over until Stitch finds Lilo's photograph, and someone pokes him. His attention snaps to the screen, where Lilo starts talking about her family, and saying that she understands Stitch, and suddenly Connor looks up at him in fear and says "Maybe we shouldn't-"

But Kevin shushes him, just in time to hear "Our family's little now, and we don't have many toys, but if you want, you could be part of it. You could be our baby, and we'd raise you to be good." His grip on Sylvia tightens until she starts to cry. Connor quickly scoops her up, away from Kevin, and he reaches out instinctively until Connor takes his hand. "Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind."

Nobody seems to notice Kevin's reaction to the words; either from just not looking or because they don't want to embarrass him, he doesn't know. But it's... after everything, to hear it put like that; to realize that he swore not to give up on Connor before he even thought about having feelings for him; to have Connor's hand in his, reminding him of the promise of a new family where the old one refused to be... he can't see the screen through his tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispers to Connor, but Connor just shakes his head.

"Don't be," he replies. "But Kevin, look." Holding up their joint hands, he gestures to Poptarts sitting in James' lap, and Naba curled up next to Arnold, his hand protectively rubbing her much-bigger-now baby bump, as they all watch Stitch crying out in the forest. "We can try again."

"But we don't- we hardly _know_ them."

"You hardly knew me, right? And now look." He smiles softly, shifting Sylvia to rest in his lap. "Look what we've got, Kevin."

"We've... we have Sylvia," he says slowly.

"Yes, and we have _us_. Whatever happens, we're stuck together now, remember?" With a gentle hand on his chin, Connor tilts Kevin's head up so their eyes meet. "Ohana means family," he says, "and family means nobody gets left behind, or forgotten."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story. Please leave kudos/comment if you can, and feel free to shoot me a message at my tumblr, greerian. Thanks, again, and have a wonderful day!


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